Night Watchmen 01: Boys and Girls of Summer
by Ironbear
Summary: Faith arrives earlier in Sunnydale than she did in canon, and it changes everything...
1. Prologue

_**An Alternate BtVS Season 3: **_**"Mortal Friends; Mortal Foes"**

_**Author:**_ Sherman Barnes aka "Ironbear"

_**Disclaimer:**_ _Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, and all characters from those series belong to Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox Television, Kuzui Enterprises, UPN, Warner Brothers, and David Greenwalt Productions. I'm only borrowing them for the purposes of fanfiction, and only the plot and storyline, and those characters of my own creation belong to me. No profit is being made from this endeavor. Faith's back story draws __loosely__ from that shown in "Go Ask Malice: A Slayer's Diary" by Robert Joseph Levy; Simon Spotlight Entertainment. Episode events and episode dialogue quotes, where used, are drawn from the transcripts and summaries at , Wikipedia, and the shooting scripts at (/buffyverse.asp)_

_**Author's Note: **__What if Faith had arrived earlier in Sunnydale and Buffy had returned a month later? What if the Mayor had had a slightly different goal? What if Spike never made it out of town following the love spell disaster, but met a different fate? Just how far apart is the line between "good slayer' and "evil slayer"? Diverges drastically from canon in many places, especially following "Lover's Walk" and "Bad Girls"._

_**Synopsis:**_ _Following the events of Becoming Part I, Faith's watcher was killed by Kakistos, and Faith left Boston on Sunday, June 21, 1998, arriving in Sunnydale Tuesday, October 13, 114 days later in canon. Instead, because of a chance encounter in NYC, Faith arrived earlier on Tuesday, July 28th, about 6 weeks - 41 days - before school starts. It makes a world of difference for all concerned..._

_**Word Count:**__ 40,744 total. 39,833 sans Disclaimer, Previouslies, and Credits._

**"Night Watchmen"**

_**A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Alternate Season 3 Prequel**_

_**Previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer:**_

_Sunnydale High School Library: Even fighting all out, Kendra can't seem to gain the upper hand against Drusilla - the insane vampiress blocks or leans away from her best attacks. Mr. Giles unconscious, Willow under a crashed bookcase, Xander with a broken arm, still strugling. Only Cordelia manages to escape in teh confusion. Crooning, Drusilla sways hypnotically around her until Kendra make the mistake of making eye contact with the vampire and finds herself frozen, her gaze captured by the dark haired vampire's thrall. Drusilla lashes out once, her sharpened nails slashing viciously across the Caribbean slayer's throat and darkness closes in about her as Kendra falls..._

_Boston: It came upon her at the dinner table, a rush of power shooting through her with an electric shock as though she'd bitten into a high tension wire. Electrified. Wired for sound, larger than life, 110 alive and humming with strength and energy. Professor Dormer stares at her in concern as she stands bolt upright from the table, putting one hand on her shoulder to steady her and offering her a drink. She gets the glass almost to her lips when it shatters, slicing her palm with a spray of water going everywhere. Strong. __Chosen__. Faith Lehane, Vampire Slayer._

_Sunnydale, the Crawford Street Mansion: Angelus taunts a bleakly enraged Buffy Summers as they fight, saying, "Now that's everything, huh? No weapons... No friends... No hope." As Buffy closes her eyes and steels herself, he gloats, "Take all that away... and what's left?" As the sword strikes toward her, Buffy claps her palms together on the blade, halting it and meets his eyes evenly, merely replying, "Me." She shoves the sword through his chest, even though she knows he's once again Angel, not Angelus, and the portal sucks him in ending Acathla's threat for good..._

_Sunnydale: Unknown to the rest of the gang, Buffy stands far away hidden and looking on , giving her school and her friends one last look before turning away and heading to the bus station. Hopping on a bus, she gazes sadly out the window as the bus leaves Sunnydale behind, and Buffy faces an unknown future..._

_Boston: Minutes before she was kneeling before the ancient vampire, Kakistos, watching as he mocked her and tore Professor Dormer in half. Vampire hands hold her on her knees, stripping her weapons away and whispering vile threats in her ears about what Kakistos and Trick were going to do to her, next - Kakistos maenads writhing obscenely around him. Then something primal, deep inside of her, snarls and stands on its hind legs and she exploded, a whirling thunderclap of violence. Kakistos howls as the hidden tanto comes out, slicing upwards between his legs. A snatched torch is flung into the dry rafters at the top of the Dyers crypt, maenads shrieking and fleeing. Dust falls about her as she fights toward the entrance, snatching her axe off the crypt floor and flinging it to split Kakistos ugly mug in two over his yellowed eye. Then there is only Trick between her and the exit, and the tanto slices him across the belly as she kicks him away. Up and out, hearing Kakistos snarl "You won't get far, Faith. You're __mine__."_

**Prologue: Chance Encounters -**

_**Monday May 25, 1998; Helen's Diner, LA.**_

Buffy Summers squared her shoulders, and put her hand on the door to the little diner. _'Ok, look confident,'_ she told herself in her best mental 'firm' voice. _'Confidence and Buffy are a very mixy combination'_.

Truth was, confident was the very last thing she'd felt since leaving Sunnydale after sending Angel into Acathla. This would make the fifth place she'd hit looking for work just today, and the others hadn't been very receptive. Not only that, her tiny bit of savings she'd managed to grab were looking as though she'd been far too optimistic on how they'd stretch. Sighing internally, she lifted her chin and pushed the door open anyway and strode in. Spotting an older, tired looking woman behind the register, she headed that way.

"Grab a seat and we'll get you fixed up, honey," The woman pushed a strand of dirty blonde hair out of her eyes and favored Buffy with a disinterested glance.

"Oh! I'm not here to eat," Buffy shook her head, slightly derailed from her planned speech. "I uh, are you Helen?"

"No, I'm Janice. Helen's the previous owner," the woman responded. "What can I do you for?"

"I'm, uh, here about the job?" Buffy winced inside. _'Way to go, confident girl'_, she thought.

Janice nodded, looking her over with more interest. "We could use someone." She ran her eyes up and down Buffy's frame in a critical look-over. "Runaway?"

"Me?" Buffy said, or rather, almost squeaked. She widened her eyes slightly and gave it her best earnest look, "Oh no, I just moved to the area, and... "

"It's all right," Janice waved her hand dismissively. "I really don't care. You're not the first young woman who came to LA to hit it big in Hollywood and found Hollywood hits back." She gave Buffy a not completely unsympathetic look. "Ever wait tables before?"

"Uh, no," Buffy admitted. "But I'm a fast learner!"

"Good. Hope so," Janice nodded. "Be here at eight am tomorrow and I'll show you the ropes. After that, if you work out, I'll find a shift for you." She glanced to the door where a group of customers were coming in, "What's your name, honey?"

"Uh, Anne. It's Anne," Buffy nodded, firmly.

"Ok, Uh Anne. See you tomorrow morning," Janice smiled tiredly, then turned away to the other customers.

Buffy smiled back, and shook her head and turned to leave, thinking, _'Well, that went well.' _If her luck held, maybe she could find a cheaper place to stay to stretch her money out as far as possible before her first check came through.

**...**

_**June 22, 1998, New York City.**_

Bus stations are always in the badder parts of town, or at least that was Faith's experience. This one was no different - she'd barely stepped off the bus and into the terminal before she'd been hit on by a half a dozen drug dealers, panhandlers, and a chicken-hawk looking for fresh meat to add to his string of girls. _That_ one had gotten something other than what he'd been shopping for - she'd let him lead her off just far enough to be out of sight of the station before she'd thrown him and his muscle man into an alley and taken them down with a set of brutal movements.

Faith doubted that her former Watcher, Diana, would have approved... but Diana wasn't around to approve of _anything_ any longer. Kakistos had taken care of _that_ for her.

She shrugged her shoulders to settle the straps of her backpack a bit more comfortably and shivered at the memory of what the Greek vampire and Trick had done to her Watcher, and almost to Faith. _'Nothing for it now,'_ she thought. _'I lived, and if I want to keep living, I need to stay ahead of the Greek Freak unless I want to end up like Diana. California, here I come. Joy.' _

Giving the unconscious pimp one last kick in the ribs to remember her by, she grinned and riffled the thick roll of bills she'd lifted off of him. His bodyguard had donated a smaller roll along with a nice, matte chromed .45 auto currently resting in her pack along with everything she owned: her axe, tanto, and knives, her Watcher's diary and her own journal, and a few changes of clothing. Well over a grand between the two rolls, not bad. Between that and the little bit of cash she had left from what she'd taken from Diana's stash before heading out on the run, she had enough to keep her eating for quite some time, possibly with a cheap motel room here and there as an alternative to sleeping on the streets.

Made for an even better alternative to having to do petty crimes or take time out long enough to work odd jobs, possibly leaving trails that Kakistos minion Trick could follow. There were pimps and chicken hawks at every train and bus station, and no one cared much if they got knocked unconscious and rolled for the cause.

After a quick glance out to make sure she was unobserved, Faith casually left the alley heading away from the Trailways station. Best to put some distance behind her before finding a place to crash - that chicken-hawk wasn't going to be too thrilled with her when he woke up, assuming he didn't become a vamp snack beforehand. Faith couldn't manage to get too worked up about the possibility: scumbags who preyed on teenage girls for a living deserved whatever they got, in her book.

Twelve long blocks away from the station, muffled curses and sounds of fighting mixed with the distinctive guttural snarl of a brassed off vamp drew her attention. Faith paused, chewing her bottom lip as conflicting impulses ran through her mind. Last thing she needed was to start dusting vamps this close to Boston - the longer she could keep word from drifting back to Kakistos or Trick that there was a slayer working the coast, the longer a head start she'd have. But ignoring the sounds of someone about to become vamp-chow didn't set well with her...

A choked, pain filled grunt from the direction of the fight decided her, and she set off running for the brawl, cursing herself under her breath the whole time.

_'Screw it,'_ Faith thought to herself, sourly. _'The Chosen One isn't supposed to let people become vamp food. Hope I still feel all virtuous and shit when Kakistos is torturing me to death.'_ She shrugged off her pack as she ran for the alley the fight sounds came from, carrying it by the straps in one hand.

Setting her pack down silently inside the alley mouth, Faith paused for a moment to take stock of the situation. Two vamps in game face, one a seedy Caucasian and the other a skinny looking hispanic, were fighting with an elderly looking black man near middle of the alleyway. The old man appeared to be giving a decent account of himself for a normal human, muttering curses and keeping the snarling vamps back with vicious swings of an ornate cane. Couldn't last, though: Faith knew that human muscle would give out long before vampire strength would, and it was obvious the vamps were toying with their food. As she silently slid up to join the fight, she saw the old man spot her and he redoubled his efforts, his mouth set in a grim, disapproving line.

The handle of the cane cracked the Hispanic vamp across the face and she could tell that play time was over by the change in the vampire's body language. The Caucasian vamp grabbed the cane and ripped it from the old man's grasp, sending it clattering to the ground between themselves and Faith as the Hispanic vamp smashed a kick into the old man's side before slamming him up against the side of the nearby dumpster.

Faith snagged the cane up from the alley floor as she lunged in, jamming it between the seedy vamps ribs and back out before he even registered her presence. She reached through the dust cloud and ripped the Hispanic vamp off of the old man as he was setting his teeth in to feed and threw him against the alley's wall hard enough for him to bounce.

The surviving vamp shook himself and gave her what he probably thought was a ferocious snarl as she shifted her grip on the cane. Faith noted absently that the bottom end of the cane was tapered enough for a makeshift stake, made out of some sort of dark, carved wood, and she gave him back a feral grin.

"Chica, dunno what you think you are, but... " the vamp lunged at her before he finished, hands reaching out to grapple her. Faith ducked under the reaching arms and, letting the vamp stumble past, jammed the end of the cane through his chest.

"Slayer. Vamp," she yanked the cane back out before it could disintegrate with the vampire. "Dust pile. Thus endeth the lesson."

A groan drew her attention back to the old man, and she took a step towards him, looking him over. "You ok?"

He nodded carefully, holding one hand to the side of his neck and met her gaze with a pair of the blackest eyes she'd ever seen. "I believe so, Ada m oma." His voice wasn't what she'd expected: rich, warm, and he spoke cultured English with a slight lilting accent. Straightening, he groaned and put his other hand to his ribs.

"Sure you are," Faith shook her head. She took in the blood running into his collar from under his hand, and rolled her eyes. He'd be vamp food before the night was out, left to himself, the smell of blood drawing them in like wolves in a neighborhood like this. _'Can't let him bleed to death, that'd kind of ruin the point of this little exercise.'_

Faith sighed and plucked the handkerchief out of the breast pocket of the old man's suit, folding it into a rectangle. "Here, hold pressure on it with this," she said. "Let's get you to an emergency room before you bleed out."

He lifted his hand for her to place the makeshift pad over his wound, and pressed down on it. "Modupe," he gave her a shrewd look and nodded, repossessing his cane. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well... " Faith shrugged, uncomfortable with the gratitude. She scowled, "Don't get used to it - this is about as 'nurturing' as I get."

He gave her a broad and startlingly white grin and nodded, "Ose gan lëkànsi. Understood."

"Right." Faith put a hand under his elbow and guided him to the mouth of the alley, collecting her pack along the way. "Let's motorvate. You gotta name?"

"Nkuyu Lungombe," he replied.

"Right. That like, African or something?"

Lugombe chuckled, "It is very like African or something. It is Yoruba, from one of the West African dialects."

"Wicked." Looking around, Faith spotted a cab stand some distance away and headed them towards it.

**...**

Taxis really don't always like picking up strange passengers late at night - especially when one was a bloody, albeit well dressed elderly black male and the other was what appeared to be a possibly underage young girl. Faith had managed to snag one by the expedient of waving a handful of twenty dollar bills under the cabby's nose without too much argument.

On the up side, the hospital was a long way from the bus station and an almost certainly pissed off pimp, assuming that Mr. Chickenhawk ever woke up. Also, she'd seen several fairly inexpensive motels within walking distance. A long walk, true, but still walking distance for a slayer.

Lungombe had insisted paying for the taxi over Faith's token - and half hearted at best - objections. She tossed the cabbie a twenty for a tip along with a rather manic grin and dragged her backpack out after herself.

"So," Faith gave the older man a diffident look as she shrugged into the pack straps. "Here you go."

"Thank you again, Ada m oma," he gave her a wide grin and managed a slight bow while still holding the bloody kerchief to his neck. "I believe I can manage from here."

"Cool," Faith gave him a blank look, "'Adam oma.' Like, what is that?"

"Ah. It means 'First Daughter' in Yoruba."

"That's like, a good thing, right?"

"Yes, it is." His eyes twinkled, and she found herself grinning back despite herself.

"Cool." Faith shrugged, and shifted her weight impatiently from one foot to the other, "Well, better get that taken care of. I'm off."

"Wait." She turned back to him, somewhat irritated, to find him tucking his can under his elbow and digging into a pants pocket of the archaic suit.

"Keep it," Faith scowled, "Don't need it. Didn't do it for money."

"Ah." Lungombe chuckled. "A good thing, then, that this isn't money," he dragged a small chain out of his front pocket with a round disk attached and held it out to her.

"Oh. Right." Faith scowled deeper, feeling slightly foolish, and kicked the toe of her boot against the concrete walk. An embarrassed Faith is an irritated Faith. She stuck her hands in her jeans pockets and cocked an eyebrow at the object, "What is that?"

"A small token," he replied. "It will change your fortunes for the better."

"Wicked cool," Faith reached her hand out for the amulet, then paused, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at it. "Not going to throw some weird curse on me, is it?"

Lungombe laughed, "No. Not hardly."

"Good." Faith nodded decisively, and snatched the amulet before he could change his mind. "My fortunes could use some changing," she allowed. She looked it over curiously before tucking it into a pocket of the tight jeans. It was rounded, and of a slivery metal inscribed with wavy lines, and with some sort of curving design cut into it.

"What will you do now?" Lungombe gave her a searching look.

Faith opened her mouth to tell him 'None of your business', and instead found her gaze caught by those piercing and warm black eyes. Instead, she shrugged and said, "Dunno. Find a place to crash, then head to the train yards and out of here, I guess."

Lungombe nodded. "Travel well then, Faith, and may you be favored by the Loa."

"Right." Faith turned on her heel and headed down the parking lot toward the street, leaving him to navigate the emergency room on his own. She never saw him watch her til she was out of sight from inside the doors, nor him vanish silently without notice.

She was several states away before she remembered that she'd never told him her name.

**...**

Ada m oma - "First daughter"

Modupe - "I give thanks"; ose gan lëkànsi - "Thank you very much, again"


	2. Chapter 1: Ill Met by Gravelight

**Episode 1a:**

**"Boys (and girls) of Summer"**

_by Ironbear_

**Starring:**

Elisha Dushku as "Faith"

Sarah Michelle Gellar as "Buffy Summers"

Anthony Stewart Head as "Rupert Giles"

Nicholas Brendan as "Alexander 'Xander' Harris"

Alyson Hannigan as "Willow Rosenberg"

Charisma Carpenter as "Cordelia Chase"

Seth Green as "Daniel 'Oz' Osbourne"

**Co-Starring:**

Kristine Sutherland as "Joyce Summers"

Saverio Guerra as "Willy the Snitch"

**Guest Starring:**

Tyrone Benskin as "Nkuyu Lungombe"

Lucinda Jenney as "Janice"

Timothy Olyphant as "Bus Station Pimp"

David Thewlis as "Bus Station Thug"

Cindy Drummond as Diner Waitress

_"...Into each generation a girl is born, a Chosen One. She alone will wield the strength and skill needed to fight the vampires, demons, and the forces of evil, stopping the swell of their numbers and the spread of their evil. She alone will stand against the powers of Darkness. She is the Slayer."_ - Legend of the Slayer

**Chapter 1: Ill Met by Gravelight -**

_**Tuesday, July 28th, Sunnydale High School library; afternoon.**_

"Ooh! Ooh! I found something!" Willow Rosenberg's voice took on an excited tone over the clattering of her keyboard.

"What?" Several pairs of eyes focused curious looks on her from various parts of the library, and Alexander "Xander" Harris got up to stand over the back of her chair so he could peer at the screen of the library computer.

"It's a place that makes and sells air rifles modified to shoot arrows or crossbow bolts," Willow said. "Look! You know, because we're having problems loading crossbows fast enough and all."

"Hrrrmmm," Xander leaned over to look at the screen. "Cool. Compressed air tank, faster to load, easier to aim, better range." It was good thing for all of them that the 'soldier memories' from his Halloween possession hadn't completely faded yet, helping him to know what he was looking at - and for. It was apparent to all of them by now that they badly needed something better to work with if they were going to fill in for their wayward slayer, and survive doing so.

No one in their group wanted to admit that it was starting to look like Buffy Summers wasn't coming back, but the fact that they were starting to make plans for attempting to fill her role on a longer term basis was telling.

"You mean we can maybe dust more than one vamp every other week without getting killed or having to flee in terror?" Cordelia Chase looked up from her nail care. "All for that, raise hands."

"Seconded," Oz lifted a hand and let it drop.

Cordelia frowned, noticing yet again the way that Willow was looking up at Xander as he leaned over her back. Jeeze. If the little red-head got any more blatant, she'd have 'Xander take me now!' tattooed on her eyelids. Good thing that Harris _defined_ oblivious towards his best friend's obvious Xander obsession. Oz glanced away from the pair, met Cordelia's eyes and his brow creased slightly as well - almost making an expression.

"Plus we can make our own wooden bolts here in the wood shop," Xander finished reading his way down the page of images and specifications to the critical information. "And, Holy Greenbacks, Batgirl!" He straightened abruptly, frowning, and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "No _way_ can we afford that." He shoved his hands in his pockets, "Can you like, flag that for later or something?"

"Bookmark. It's called 'bookmarking'," Willow grinned, then sighed. "I know, but so far, _nothing_ we've found that's useful is like, cheap."

"We should start our own store: Fearful Vampire Hunting on a Shoestring," Xander said.

"Let me see," Cordelia put down her nail file and got up to bump Xander over to one side so she could look at the screen. "Move over, Doof."

"And yet she looks so lifelike," Xander grumbled as he scooted over. "Almost like a real person, only without that annoying courtesy thing."

Cordelia gave him the patented thousand watt grin with all of the insincerity she could muster. "And yet you enjoy the abuse so _much_. Hrmm... " she tapped a fingernail thoughtfully on her lips, then sighed internally and dug into a pocket. "Go ahead and order them," she said, handing her credit card to Willow. "One for everyone and a couple of extras."

Three pairs of eyebrows put on climbing gear and began to ascend foreheads.

"Cool, and yet unexpectedly generous," Oz remarked.

"What?" Cordelia looked around, arching an eyebrow imperiously. "Like I don't want to live long enough to graduate or something? Oh, please."

"Ah yes. We forgot the lure of enlightened self-interest," Xander said, snickering. He winced as Cordelia smacked him on the shoulder.

"And like I so enjoy breaking nails loading crossbows. As if!" Cordelia smiled, "Besides, it's not like Daddy looks at my credit card statements, anyway. So I go without a couple of new outfits until just before school starts."

"Self inflicted clothing deprivation," Oz noted. "Hellmouthy."

"Ok," Xander turned to stare at her. "Where is the real Cordelia Chase and what have you done with her?"

"I'll never tell," Cordelia smirked, and added, "Dweebo," as an afterthought.

"If you're sure?" Willow held the card up, pausing for the answer. She frowned, glad that the other girl couldn't see the expression while she faced the computer. Willow _really_ didn't like the self-appointed 'Queen C of Sunnydale', but even she had to admit that the cheerleader and socialite had more than held up her end of trying to help keep supernatural menaces down to a dull roar over the summer.

"I _said_ so, didn't I?" Cordelia frowned. "Anything else we can think of, while we're at it?"

"A couple of those compound crossbows wouldn't hurt," Xander said. "Well, not hurt _us_, hopefully."

"There's that place I found where we can buy bottled holy water on line," Willow added.

"Paintball guns," Oz remarked. Everyone looked at the guitarist.

"We mark the vamps so we can track their migration and mating habits?" Xander frowned, ignoring the 'eeww' from the girls.

Oz gave him a microscopic eyebrow lift, almost looking pained, for Oz. "Ink refill kits. Big syringe. Can draw out the dye, inject holy water."

"Oooh! Like for inkjet printers," Willow nodded enthusiastically.

"And seal them back up with a dab of super-glue or epoxy," Xander nodded. "Reach out and splatter vamps the Hellmouth way - now with new and improved technology!"

"Wow." Cordelia arched an eyebrow in Oz's direction. "That was almost verbose."

"Won't happen again." Oz gave her a bland look.

"Couple of the paint ball rifles and several of the pistol kind?" Xander gave his girlfriend an inquiring look, to which she rolled her eyes and nodded. Considering for a moment, Xander added, "Super-soakers?"

"Nah. We can get those at the hobby shop on Main," Cordelia shook her head. "No waiting."

Willow nodded and opened several other browser windows and started entering data. "Delivery?" She paused.

"My house," Cordelia said, after a short pause. "We get deliveries all the time, so no one will blink. And the parental units won't be back until right before school starts."

"We can practice with them out in the woods next door," Xander said, nodding. His girlfriend flashed him a grin and he added. "I can get some hardwood dowels at my job for arrow making, and glue on broadheads at the sporting goods shop." He chuckled, "At least my summer thing at the contracting supply store is good for more than just padding the road trip fund."

"Three day shipping, or overnight?" Willow asked.

Cordelia chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Three day. We can concentrate on grave watching for newbies until then."

"Got it," Willow finished entering amounts, addresses, and credit card number and passed the card back over her shoulder to Cordelia. She leaned back, "All done."

"Cool." Oz went back to his guitar catalog. "Thanks," he added, and the others made sounds of agreement.

"Hey - it's _my_ fashionably clad and elegant neck on the line, too, you know." Cordelia stated, sounding pleased at the acknowledgment.

"Ok, boyz and gurls," Xander clapped his hands together. "We met the 'Scooby Survival Dilemma' and it is ours. What should we do with the rest of our afternoon?"

"Mall. Food and shopping," Cordelia said. She gave Xander - or more accurately, his clothes - a speculative look.

"Oh no. No way am I letting you play 'Dress Up Xan-doll' with my outfit," Xander backed away, holding his fingers in a cross shape between them. "Back, foul woman! Back!"

Cordelia sniffed, "Oh please. Like I'd dignify that pile of rags with the word 'outfit'?" Xander kept backing away until he hit the edge of the counter, and she shrugged. "Your loss, geek-boy. You're still coming to carry packages, though."

"That I can do," Xander lowered his finger cross. "My manly strength is at your disposal, in exchange for a trip through the food court. Ow," he rubbed his arm where Cordelia smacked him.

"Manly, huh?" She hooked her arm through his and glanced at the other two. Oz and Willow shared a moment of silent communication.

"Could eat," Oz allowed.

"We're in," Willow grinned back at him, then turned to Cordelia. "Thanks, Cordy," she said, albiet a bit grudgingly.

"Don't mention it," Cordelia gave a tug on her boyfriend's arm, heading towards the library doors. "To anyone," she added.

**...**

_**Tuesday, July 28th, Sunydale bus station; night.**_

Faith hauled her backpack out of the overhead rack, yawning and trailing after the handful of other passengers exiting the Greyhound. She shrugged into it and then paused, frowning, as she stepped down to head into the terminal. The ambiance of the Hellmouth hit her the moment her foot touched the pavement, and she froze as an oily feeling of _wrongness_ slithered into her gut through her slayer senses and _twisted_.

_'Whoa! What the fuck is __that__?'_ Faith stumbled slightly as she took a step away from the bus. _'Feels like something from one of those Lovecraft books, and it's everywhere.'_

Strange town, she could tell already, even without the mystic taint reaching out from everything.. This had to be the first bus station she'd seen during her cross country jaunt that was nearly deserted after dark. No homeless people, druggies, dealers, panhandlers, or chickenhawks lining the sidewalk outside waiting for opportunity, either. Either this place had truly zealous cops - or one hell of a vamp problem come nightfall.

Faith _really_ wasn't willing to bet on the zealous law enforcement.

She rolled her shoulders under the straps and made sure she had a pair of stakes handy in her waistband and jacket pockets. Locating a phone book, she flipped through it until she found a listing for motels, and then tore out the page and the locater map. She decided she could wait on looking up Buffy Summers or her Watcher until tomorrow - after several days on buses and trains, what she wanted now most of all was a place to crash, food, and a shower, not necessarily in that order.

Barely a couple of hours past sundown, she noted. No cabs, but she didn't really want to waste the money on one, either. She wasn't broke by any means, but what she had was going to have to last her for awhile. Glancing at the street signs and getting her bearings, she headed off across town at a steady pace.

**...**

"Eeek!" Willow made a yelping noise as a clawed hand thrust upwards from the new grave, followed shortly after by another hand, a head in full vamp-face, and a pair of shoulders.

"Let me help you out," Xander leaned forward and reached out a hand to the newly rising vampire, hiding a stake behind his leg in his other hand.

The fledgling vamp gave him a surprised look, blinking dirt out of its eyes, then muttered something that sounded like, "Thanks."

"No prob," Xander grasped the vamps wrist firmly, and then leaned back, pulling it forward and outwards from the grave. There was a moist crunching sound as Cordelia shoved a sharpened mop handle through its exposed back, followed by a startled look from the vamp and an explosion of dust.

"Score," Oz remarked.

"And that, ladies and germs, is how it's done down on the Hellmouth," Xander said. He picked himself up from where the sudden release of tension had dumped him on his butt when the vamp dusted as Cordelia came around the headstone.

Cordelia took a short bow, "And I would like to thank all the _little_ people who have come together to make this moment possible."

"Now, that wasn't very sporting, people," said a voice from behind them.

"Uh oh," Oz said. The four turned to see a trio of very _non_-new vampires standing a few yards away.

"Umm, guys?" Willow's voice had a slight edge of panic to it. Xander and Cordelia looked to where she pointed and saw two more leaning against a headstone in full game face.

"Yeah. He didn't even get a chance to not take a deep breath on his first night," one of the leaning vamps remarked.

Xander turned to face the three vamps, with Cordelia taking a firmer grip on her stake-staff, as Willow and Oz faced the two leaning vamps. "Well, if we wanted to make this a _sport_, that might, like, _bother_ us," Harris said, trying to make his voice sound firm and unworried.

Judging from the slight squeak at the end, he didn't think he managed. This was very _much_ of the bad.

"Now look what you've done," the right side vamp of the trio remarked. "Now we're going to go to all the trouble of having to turn a new minion." His yellow eyes fastened on Cordelia as he lunged forward, "You'll do."

There was a _thwang!_ from behind as Oz's crossbow went off, followed by a snarl, a yelp from Willow, and the sound of a vamp dusting. Cordelia brought her sharpened pole up and into the rushing vamp's chest with a muttered, "You wish, ugly," as Xander tried to step into the other two before they reached her.

Things went sideways in a rush after that. Xander had a jumbled impression of Cordelia and Willow screaming and too many limbs moving way too fast as one of the vamps ducked under his swing, and the other went past him in a rush. He managed to get his stake in with his other hand, but he knew with a sickening certainty that he'd missed the heart. A fist caught him on the side of the face with an impact like a ball peen hammer, and he went down in a jumble of teeth, yellow eyes, and bad breath in his face.

He managed to bring a knee up as they went over, resulting in little more than a pissed off grunt from the vamp. Xander noted with a mild detachment a small voice in the back of his mind screaming _"We're going to die ohmygodwe'regoingtodiediediegoingtodie- "_ even while he tried to keep the fangs out of his throat with an arm jammed under the vampire's chin.

Then the weight came off of his chest abruptly and he found himself choking on a mouth-and-noseful of vamp dust, trying dazedly to blink it out of his eyes. He had a vague impression he was hearing punching sounds, grunts, and a steady string of muttered cursing that would make a sailor proud.

"God" thud "damned" grunt "idiot" crunch "mother-" whap "bloodsu-" thud "bastard!"

Xander felt a hand under one armpit hauling him up and he finally shook the dust out of his eyes to see a disheveled and wild eyed Cordelia pulling up on him, and an equally wild looking brunette girl beating the living crap out of one of the vamps in a whirl of fists and boots. He threw a frantic look around to see a grim looking Oz helping Willow to her feet, and no other vamps in sight. "Wha... ?"

"Humping dirtsucker," the dark haired girl slammed the much worse for wear vamp against a tombstone with a circle kick and stepped back. She threw Xander an exhilarated look and pointed, "Mind if I borrow that?"

While Xander was gawping, trying to make sense out of the situation, Cordelia blew a clump of hair out of her eyes and picked up the fallen stake, tossing it to the newcomer. The girl snagged it out of mid-air with a wide grin, ducked under the vamp's wild swing as he came up and off of the tombstone, slamming it through his chest with a flourish.

"Whoa," the new arrival stepped back from the dust cloud and spun the stake around her hand. "Hate it when they burst right in your nose."

"Tell me!" Cordelia made an ineffectual swipe at the hair straggling down her face, then gave a slight squawk as she took in the grave dirt and grass stains on her outfit. "Ugh! I can't _believe_ I blew off Las Palmas for this!"

The dark haired girl swaggered over to the small group, and handed Xander the stake. "Thanks. Lost mine when I threw it through the vamp menacing shortstuff over there." She put her hands on her hips and looked them over with an insouciant half-grin.

"No." Willow caught her breath, finally. "We should be thanking you," she said, leaning on Oz's shoulder.

"'Preciated," Oz said with his usual economy of phrase.

Cordy gave up on trying to restore her outfit and gave the newcomer a critical once over followed by the thousand-watt Cordelia Chase smile. "Cordelia Chase. Tall, dark, and dorksome here is Xander Harris," she thumped Xander on the shoulder for emphasis - and possibly to help him get his brain restarted. "Short and blue haired over there is Oz, and Miss Sears Catalogue '98 is Willow."

"Hey!" Willow shot Cordelia a glare that would melt steel, which naturally rolled off of the impervious cheerleader.

The dark haired girl nodded, taking it all in. "Cool. I'm Faith."

"Gonna go out on a limb and say there's a new Slayer in town," Oz noted.

"You got it, Ace," Faith said.

"Oz."

"Whatever."

Xander couched the last of the vamp dust out of his lungs and got his voice back, finally. "Thanks for the save," he said, looking the girl over and very much liking what he saw. Dark hair, liquid whiskey colored eyes, tight, faded, black jeans, and wearing a tank top that left little to the imagination even with a lightweight leather jacket over it. Faith smirked and acknowledged the thanks with a nod, the smirk saying clearly that she knew _exactly_ what was going through his mind.

"Tongue in, Harris," Cordelia said. "You're drooling." Xander favored her with a glare.

"I have that effect, most times," Faith said, winking at Cordelia. "Since I seem to have found the Fearless Vampire Killers, can I hazard a guess one of you might know where I can find Buffy Summers?" She frowned when the others exchanged looks and shrugs.

"Ummm... about that, yeah," Xander looked uncomfortable and shrugged again.

"Buffy took off and no one's seen her since," Cordelia stated, matter of factly. She met the other three's glares with a raised chin, "What? She did!"

"Ah, ok... " Faith shook her head and pushed her hair back from her face with both hands. "Her Watcher, then?"

"He'sofftryingtofindBuffyandbringherback," Willow muttered in a fast rush of words.

"Huh?" Faith gave her a nonplussed look.

"Breathe, Willow," Cordelia suggested. "She said Buffy's Watcher is off trying to locate Buffy." She pulled out a brush and started working on getting some semblance of order out of her hair.

"He's not here right now, either," Xander added.

"That would follow," Faith said, nodding. "Right then. So- you guys are holding down the slay fort on your own then?" She frowned, looking around the grave site and the scattered vampire dust, and raised an eyebrow. "No superpowers or anything?"

"Well, someone has to," Willow said.

"Yup." Faith grinned, nodding. "Gotta give you guys an A+ for stones."

"And a D- for active brain cells and self preservation instincts," Cordelia commented dryly. "The Watcher type should be back in a couple-three days."

"Wicked," Faith nodded. "So, what's there to do in this burg?

"Well, it's a bit early for the Bronze," Xander said, then, noticing Cordelia's glare he added hastily, "Not that we'd want to go there all covered in dust and grave dirt, mind you."

"There's a pretty good diner a few blocks up," Willow supplied.

"Decent food," Oz allowed.

"I could eat," Faith said, nodding.

"We'll chip in for yours," Xander stated. "The least we can do considering you probably saved our bacons."

"Wicked," Faith walked off briefly, coming back with a pack and sleeping bag. "Lead on."

**...**

_**Kaylee's Diner, Later.**_

"... ok, so I get snagged by this Big Daddy boss vamp in Missouri who kept alligators as pets, and he throws me into the pen and has me wrasslin' one of 'em, ok?" Faith gestured expansively, sprawled out comfortably with the others in a corner booth at the diner. "Damn' thing must've been at _least_ twelve feet long or more and I'm... "

She broke off the tale as their waitress arrived with their orders, and began setting plates down on the table.

"Will there be anything else?" The waitress asked.

"Refills on the drinks?" Xander asked.

"Sure thing, honey," the waitress put her pad away. "I'll bring you some dessert when you're done here." Like many of Sunnydale's night working residents, she was aware of Sunnydale's after dark life - even if she wouldn't admit to it to anyone - and she and the rest of the staff had gotten used to the odd group of kids who often came in covered in grass stains and dust, with stakes tucked away in various places.

None of them ever realized that that had a lot to do with why the cook always made sure they got extra large portions, and why their desserts and refills never seemed to make in onto their tickets. She brought their drinks, and went back to the counter to speculate with the other waitress on what the kids might have been up to tonight, and why the little blonde girl never seemed to come in with them any longer.

"So," Xander asked with an eyebrow waggle, "Was this naked alligator wrestling?" He referred back to one of Faith's earlier stories with a dreamy expression.

"Well, the _alligator_ was naked," Faith said in a teasing tone, and tossed her head back, laughing, as Cordelia thumped Xander soundly on the back of the head. Willow snickered, glancing at Cordy sympathetically. "Tell ya, I never had more trouble than that one damn' vamp and his minions."

"Xander?" Cordelia glared at his wounded look. "Find a new theme. What is it with you and slayers, anyway? Maybe I should dress up as one and put a stake to your heart."

Xander leered at her, "Oh, please God, let that not be sarcasm."

"You _wish_," Cordelia rejoined, smirking.

"Relax, girlfriend," Faith picked up her burger and bit into it. She swallowed and took a swig of coke. "Teasing and flirting aside, plenty of fish in the sea, and I don't poach in someone else's cove, if you catch my meaning." She gave Cordelia a serious look.

Cordelia studied her carefully, then gave her a short nod, relaxing slightly. Faith nodded back and bit into a mouthful of fires, winking at her.

"Man, isn't it something how slaying always gives you the hungries and hornies?" She looked expectantly at Cordelia, grinning.

"Eeew," Willlow said, blushing furiously and avoiding Oz's eyes as Xander almost inhaled a mouthful of coke.

"At this rate, Xander will never find out," Cordelia stated, whamming him on the back until he finished choking. She got a suddenly enlightened expression and looked at Faith. "Oh - I get it!"

Faith gave her a confused look back.

"Not the horny thing - yuck. But the new slayer thing. There was one, and then Buffy died for, like, two minutes, so then Kendra was

called, and then when Drusilla killed her, you were called."

Faith nodded. "Pretty much."

"So," Willow put in, apparently casting desperately about for a change of subject from both the 'horny' and the 'dead slayers' things. "Will your Watcher be joining you here?"

"No." Faith swirled a cluster of fries in her ketchup with exaggerated casualness. "She doesn't know I'm down here."

"You took off without your Watcher knowing?" Xander raised his eyebrows, suddenly curious.

"No biggie," Faith shrugged. "I wanted to meet the infamous Buffy Summers, so while Diana was occupied, I took off and headed here."

"Infamous?" Willow asked.

Cordelia leaned back against Xander's shoulder and studied the other girl as she began relating how she'd gotten curious about Buffy from her Watcher's journals. There was something slightly.. off... about the dark haired slayer. An expert at both reading people and at keeping more under her own surface than she showed to the world around her, Cordelia sensed similar traits in Faith. She was also an expert at telling the truth while keeping some of it in reserve, and she didn't have any problems sensing when someone else was doing the same. She'd have bet Xander's road trip fund that Faith was leaving things out of her explanation of her Watcher's absence.

She could also sense that there was an odd streak of fragility and wound-tight nervous tension underlying Faith's bravado and sarcasm. Not that the girl wasn't tough - there was a sense of a hard streak of steel there too - but also a curiously vulnerable sense to go with it. On the other hand, Faith _was_ a damned good fighter. Different and wilder in style from Buffy, but her exuberance and obvious relish of slaying _was_ a pleasant change from Buffy's _"I __hate__ being the Chosen One and just want to give it up - except when there's another slayer around"_ angsting. Cordelia flicked her eyes to Oz, then to Faith and back, and getting a slight knowing look in return. She nodded and tuned back into the conversation.

"So, Princess B just took off on you guys, huh?"

Xander shrugged, "Well, not quite _just_ like that. There was this matter of having to kill her evil boyfriend and send him to Hell."

"Whoa," Faith sat back, giving Harris a serious look. "Heavy."

"Yup, mucho angsto," Xander nodded. "Not much choice in it though, considering Angelus was about to end the world at the time, after his evil psycho queen killed Kendra."

Willow kicked Xander under the table and shot him the death glare to end all death glares. "Ow - what?"

"Angelnotangelusandyoushouldn'tjustblurtthatouttojustanyone-" Willow muttered.

"Whoa whoa, again, waitaminnit there," Faith cut across Willow's babble, looking around the table. "B's boyfriend was one of the Scourge of Europe? A vamp?"

Cordelia nodded reluctantly, "Well, not when he was her boyfriend, but, yeah. Kinda."

"Whoa. That's wicked kinky." Faith gave her an incredulous look, and said, "I thought the manual said we were supposed to slay 'em, not lay 'em." She got a Willow death glare of her own that went completely unnoticed by her.

Xander coughed, attempting vainly to choke back a bark of laughter, "Well, in theory, anyway... "

"Angel had a soul then," Willow stated, scowling ferociously at everyone at the table.

Cordelia beamed at Faith, "Well, there's theory, and then there's practice, obviously." She frowned, "Wait - there's a manual?"

"Slayer's Handbook, yup," Faith nodded, finishing up her burger and trying to ignore the sudden charged atmosphere around the table.

"Ah. Giles said it wouldn't be of any use to the Buffster," Xander put in with a lopsided grin, attempting to defuse things.

Faith nodded, "Can't say I ever found it much use."

"So," Oz interjected, "How did you get here from... ?" He got a grateful look from his girlfriend for the subject change.

"Boston?" Faith grinned and went with the diversion. She shrugged, "Bus to New York, hopped a freight train to St. Louis, hitched a bit, snagged a pickup truck from the alligator vamp after he got dusted, then Amtrak and a few freight liners to Arizona across Texas and New Mexico. Train to Reno, bus to Santa Barbara and then here. No big." She finished her coke, and added, "Made pretty good time, all in all."

"Wow," Willow gave her a wide eyed look. "All the way from Boston?" She asked, curious.

"How'd you make expenses?" Xander asked. "I'm kinda planning a cross country trip after graduation."

"This and that," Faith shrugged. "Mostly raided vamp nests and took cash and stuff to pawn after they were dusted." She shook her head at the looks that got, "Not too hard to take out a nest - hit it in the day time, go in fast while they're waking up and recovering. Boom." Faith figured it best to leave out the 'rolling the occasional pimp or dealer' parts.

"If you're a slayer, anyway," Cordelia acknowledged.

"You guys do ok. You dusted two out of five and Oz there looked to be handling a third before I showed up," Faith said.

"You stole money from vampires?" Willow stared at her, "But... but... but... "

"What?" Faith looked at her, "They didn't have any use for it any more."

Xander cleared his throat, "The few times we brought it up, Buffy shot down the idea."

"She thought making money off of slaying was wrong," Cordelia added, watching Faith curiously to see what her reaction would be.

_'Might as well deal with that straight up'_, Faith thought. "Well, I'm not Buffy Summers. I don't intend to _be_ Buffy Summers," Faith gave the other brunette a level stare. "The bad guys didn't need it any longer, their victims weren't coming back for it, and I figure it beat hooking or robbing tourists for cash. And it's not like you can fit flipping burgers in around a slaying schedule, right?" She paused, "Kinda poetic having the vamps fund their own slaying."

Faith leaned back, waiting, outwardly relaxed but tense on the insides. _'Well, this is where I lose the little whitebread kids,'_ she thought. _'But, fuck - not like I'm going to pretend to much to be something I'm not just to score points.'_

"But... " Willow spread her hands, unable to quite articulate a good objection to the matter of fact statement. The casual mention of prostitution derailed her as well. Xander and Oz just exchanged looks and shrugged.

Cordelia tilted her head slightly and studied the other girl, seemingly aware that Faith was studying her back just as intently, despite her casual surface. For some reason, Cordelia's opinion on this seemed to be the one that mattered.. After a long moment, Cordelia smiled slowly and gave Faith a short nod, "Makes perfect sense to me."

Faith studied her a moment longer, then nodded back and grinned. "Works." The waitress coming back with refills and dessert for their table cut through the tension, and everyone relaxed a bit, digging in.

"Back to the 'infamous' thing," Xander suggested.

Faith stretched and leaned back, comfortably stuffed. "So, you guys been helping out with the slaying for awhile now?" She countered.

"For a couple of years," Willow nodded. "Except for Oz."

"Late bloomer," Oz said. Faith grinned at him.

"You guys already know the stuff that's in the Watcher's journals, then." Faith shrugged, "Like, it true that B stole a bazooka to take out that Judge demon?"

"Oh yeah!" Willow nodded furiously. "That was cool!"

"Except that _Xander_ came up with the plan, and I helped him steal the locket launcher," Cordelia said nonchalantly, studying her nails.

"No shit?" Faith studied her, then gave Xander and Cordy an impressed look. "Get outta town."

"No, really," Willow said. "But but - Buffy was the one that actually shot it," she added, torn between loyalty to Xander and not wanting to downplay Buffy's contributions.

"And Cordelia killed that bug assassin," Xander said.

"And eew - I was still picking bugs out of my hair a week later. Yuck!" Cordelia made a face. "Besides, _so_ not sure that counted - I just stepped on them after we laid the glue trap."

"Willow," Oz put in, and everyone looked at him. "Does most of our information gathering." He considered a moment, "And is kinda magicky." Willow squeezed his arm and beamed at him.

"And when Buffy died the first time?" Cordelia said, "Xander and Angel were the ones who went down into the Master's tunnels after her and brought her back with CPR."

Faith ignored Willow's nodding and looked at Xander, "That true?"

Xander just shrugged in response, "Was when Angel was pre-Evil Deadboy."

Cordelia went on, "Of course, Buffy swears it was _Angel_ who brought her back, but vampires? _So_ not with the breathing thing, you know?"

Faith studied Xander out of the corner of her eye while Cordelia was talking, and saw him school himself to look bland when she got to the part about doubting Angel doing CPR, and nodded to herself mentally. There was _definitely_ more to that story than Harris wanted anyone to know. Huh. So the geeky guy was responsible for saving the 'legendary' Buffy Summers and for Faith being called, eh? Whoda thunk it?

"So, what you're saying is most of the stuff in the journals is really a team thing," Faith asked, focusing back on Cordelia.

"Buffy was the star player, but everyone pitches in or we wouldn't be alive right now," Cordelia stated, emphatically.

"Oh, but we wouldn't have been able to do any of it without Buffy there to, to, do like the hero thing," Willow asserted. Xander nodded, supporting her statement.

Faith frowned, "My Watcher always said that the Slayer is supposed to work by herself." Everyone around the table got still suddenly, and she winced inside, looking down at her empty dessert plate.

"Kendra went by the Watcher's manual," Xander said, quietly. He exchanged looks with Cordelia and then glanced down.

Faith shifted uncomfortably, hating trying to figure out the right and wrong things to say with a new crowd. _Especially_ when there were as many potential land mines to step in as there seemed to be with this group, "But what I learned on the streets was you tend to live a lot longer when your crew's watching your back." The others relaxed slightly, nodding.

"Her _back_ is the part _above_ where your eyes usually fall, dweebo," Cordelia said, nudging Xander's shoulder.

Faith looked up and grinned as Willow snickered at Xander's expression. _'This might just be all right,'_ she thought.


	3. Chapter 2: A Bad Case of Dead

**Chapter 2: A Bad Case of Dead -**

_**Friday July 31, 1998, Sunnydale High School Library; early afternoon.**_

Everyone was already gathered in the library by the time that Faith made her way there, showered, rested, freshly changed, and yawning still. Only an hour behind the agreed on time for meeting up with the group, even. Willow gave her a slight wave, bouncing in her chair. Xander grinned and raised Faith's yawn with one of his own, while Oz merely nodded.

"Lateness is obviously an inborn slayer trait, I see," Cordelia snarked, not looking up from her nails.

"And good morning to you, too, C," Faith grumbled. She plopped into a chair and stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. She snagged a cinnamon roll out of the box Xander slid her way.

"Don't sweat the Cordy. She's always poisonous before 3pm," Xander told her.

"And yet, you're still among the living despite my best efforts," Cordelia shot back.

Faith snickered, "No worries. I'm not exactly an day person myself." She finished her roll and grabbed another. "What's on the agenda today?"

"Meetup at the Queen C's palace later," Xander stated. "Got some stuff to show you."

"Thought we already settled that, stud," Faith smirked. "You're the Queen's slave, and you only get to show _her_ your stuff."

"Find a place to crash?" Oz asked.

"Yup," Faith stretched, rolling her neck to pop the kinks out. "Room out by the bus station for now. Find something else when I have more time to look around." Oz nodded.

"Ooh. Giles is back, finally," Willow cut in. "He's wanting to meet you."

"The Watcher's back?" Faith slouched lower in her chair. "He have any luck?"

That was obviously the wrong thing to ask. Faith could feel spirits in the room drop about ten feet, except for Cordelia's, as Willow shook her head. "Not yet," Xander replied.

The door to the library office opening cut of further conversation for the moment. Faith stood casually, brushing donut crumbs off of her jeans and studied the man who came out. Rupert Giles was just over six foot, somewhere around his early forties, with green eyes, wire framed glasses, and - currently - wearing a rumpled tweed jacket over slacks. He had wiry hair, and a slightly puckish expression. He looked Faith over curiously once he caught sight of her, and came over to the table.

"Why, hello," he put out his hand for her, and Faith shook it carefully, trying not to apply too much pressure. "Rupert Giles. You must be the new slayer they were mentioning to me."

"Uhh, yeah." Faith stuck her hands in her pockets and stood casually, trying to not look either too uncomfortable, nor too defiant. "I'm Faith."

He waited for a moment to see if she'd add to that, and then removed his glasses and began to polish them with a handkerchief. Faith was slightly startled to notice how tired and... empty he looked.

"It's like Madonna, or Prince," Cordelia supplied, "Only Faith. One name only."

"Why yes, thank you, Cordelia, for that rather enlightening revelation," Giles glanced over at the cheerleader with a faintly exasperated expression.

"Pretty much," Faith nodded. She took a sudden liking to the man just from the dry, good natured snark in his measured response to Cordelia. "You're Buffy's Watcher."

"Yes, it would seem so," Giles said. "A Watcher sans portfolio and charge, at the moment, it would seem."

"Well, Buffy's loss, huh?" She grinned, "If I'd've known they made Watchers this young and cute, I would've put my order in earlier."

"Raise your hand if 'ew' comes to mind, anyone?" Cordelia said echoed by a choking sound from Willow.

Giles replaced his glasses and gave Faith a piercing look over the top of the frames, "Yes, well, um, a... leaving aside for a moment my, uh,

youth and beauty, I-I'll just say 'pleased to meet you, Faith,' and leave it at that."

"Works," Faith nodded.

"Your Watcher didn't accompany you here, I take it?" Giles gave her a curious look.

Faith opened her mouth, and then shut it quickly, looking down at the toes of her boots to hide her frown. The careful story she'd had prepared wasn't going to work, obviously - it was well over a month and a half yet until the annual Watcher's Retreat in the Cotswolds, and she seriously doubted Giles would buy that her Watcher had left for it early. Too easily checked, even if she did try that one. She scowled, thinking furiously. She'd been a bit too busy traveling and surviving to give much thought to an alternate story.

Coming to a sudden decision, she raised her head and squared her shoulders defiantly. Screw it. "I, ah, need to talk to you about that."

"Yes?" Giles gave her an expectant look, followed by a puzzled and then understanding one finally when Faith looked to his office door and back to him. "Ah, yes. Would you care to join me in my office for a moment, please?"

Faith nodded seriously, and followed him in, shutting the door behind her as Giles took a seat behind his desk. "Thanks."

"Quite all right," Giles said. "Please forgive me - I'm still a bit fatigued, and not quite as fast on the uptake as I might normally be. Have seat, please," he gestured to one of the office chairs. "Some tea, perhaps?"

"Naw, thanks," Faith waved off the seat, and the tea. Sticking her hands in her back pockets, she prowled back and forth a few times across the small office as Giles watched her curiously. Her right hand hit the little amulet that the old man in New York had given her, and she found herself rubbing it nervously with her fingertips.

_'Deep breath, Faith, you can do this,'_ she decided. "My Watcher's not going to be joining me." She stopped pacing and locked eyes with the older man. "She's got a bad case of dead."

"I see," Giles removed his glasses again and gave them another unnecessary cleansing while he gathered his thoughts. "May I ask what happened?"

Faith gave him a startled look, then realized he was being polite, not asking permission to ask. "Well, sure." She shrugged, "Bad assed vamp killed her, in Boston, end of June. I didn't have anywhere else to go."

Rupert Giles sighed heavily, and replaced his glasses. He'd feared something like this when the young slayer had indicated she wanted to speak to him alone, and from her obvious discomfort. "My condolences. I'm very sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, well... " Faith trailed off, and shrugged.

"Who was your Watcher, may I inquire?"

"Diana Dormer," Faith stated.

Giles winced. He removed his glasses again and carefully placed them on his desk, then pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. "I'm afraid that I didn't know Diana, however I had heard good things about her. I hadn't realized she'd been assigned a Potential." He met Faith's eyes levelly, "How did it happen?"

"Vamp grabbed her, used her to lure me in, killed her, I fought my way out and ran," Faith said, flatly. "Came here. Not much to tell."

"Quite," Giles said. "All the way from the East Coast, on your own? That's quite resourceful of you."

Faith gave him a startled look, surprised by the note of praise in his voice. She shrugged, "Been used to making it on my own before."

"I see," Giles paused, thinking while he studied her."Well, I shall have to inform the Council of these events. Doubtless they will assign you a new Watcher, however, I will do my best to fill in until such a time as that occurs, naturally."

Faith scowled, "Diana didn't give me the impression the Council was worth much. You _have_ to 'inform' them?"

"Ha. I'm afraid that while my view of the current Council head is possibly similar to hers, I'm afraid I must." He paused, "They _will_ know as soon as her death or disappearance is reported, and they realize you've dropped out of sight, regardless."

"Yeah, I guess," Faith sighed. "Do whatcha gotta do." Privately, she reserved the right to make her own decisions, no matter what the Council had to say.

"I will," Giles gave her a kindly look. "As you are no doubt a minor and without family here, the Council will provide you with a stipend to live on and for expenses. It won't be much, I fear." He removed his glasses again and studied her while polishing them. "In the mean time, do you have a place to stay? And any funds?"

"Yeah. Both," Faith nodded. "Enough to live on for awhile."

"Excellent," Giles said. "And weapons?"

"Yup. Stakes, knives, and Diana's spare battle axe," Faith grinned, "What more does a slayer need? Oh - and the knife Sensei Kanno gave me."

Giles gave her a startled look, "Kanno? He's still training Potentials and slayers?" Faith opened her mouth to answer, but Giles waved it off, "Of course he is, or you wouldn't mention it. Silly question. How is the fellow these days?"

"Pretty good," Faith allowed. "You know Shigero Kanno?"

"Not well, but yes," Giles nodded. "He taught hand to hand and close quarter weapons at the Watcher's Academy in my final year."

"Cool." Faith shifted her weight on her feet, uncomfortably. This was a _lot_ more information than she'd really planned on giving out to B's Watcher. Oh well - at least she'd find out pretty fast what he was made of, this way.

"Very well," Giles gave her a tired smile. "You do seem to have things in hand for the moment, at least. He frowned, looking away, "I will be leaving again by mid-afternoon tomorrow, however, I should be back before Monday at the latest."

"Another lead on B?" Faith asked. At Giles blank look, she elaborated, "On Buffy, I mean?"

"Ah. No, I wish it were so, but I'm afraid not. It's a buying trip to acquire some much needed volumes I've been looking for for quite some time." Giles rubbed his forehead tiredly, "Please forgive me for cutting this short, today, however I fear that I am in desperate need of a shower and long overdue re-acquaintance with a real bed."

"No worries," Faith nodded. The corners of her lips curled up into a half smile, "You should do that thing before you fall over and ruin those good looks."

"Hah. Yes, quite. We wouldn't wish that," Giles gave her a slight smile. "Do go along with you now, and find something useful to occupy yourself with. And take those other hooligans with you."

Faith grinned and clasped her hands behind her back, straightening. "Sir, yes sir. Five by five, sir." She clicked her boots together, turned on her heel and headed out into the greater library, hearing a startled chuckle from the man behind her.

**...**

Giles went to his office door and watched Buffy's 'Scooby Gang' and their new addition swarm out en masse, Willow and Oz hand in hand, Faith bumping shoulders good naturedly with Xander while both traded barbs and witticisms with Cordelia.

_'Interesting girl,'_ he thought. _'It is good to have a slayer here in the interim, if Buffy doesn't return.'_ Giles frowned to himself. _'__Until__ Buffy returns, not if.' _Although, as much as he truly hated to contemplate the possibility, after several months 'if' was beginning to seem likely. Neither the Council's methods of locating slayers, nor the Coven's mystical means, nor any of Giles' contacts had managed to find a trace of the missing blonde Slayer.

Giles detested the fact that of late, many of his most recent trips had been to check - and rule out - the identity of small, blonde, Jane Does in hospitals and morgues. So far, thankfully, none of those possibilities had proven out.

There was a likelihood that young Faith might very well find herself the permanent guardian of Sunnydale, and possibly, Rupert Giles as more than her interim Watcher. Regardless of how distasteful he found the possibility of never seeing the young girl he still considered 'His Slayer' again, he _couldn't_ allow that to cause him to distance himself from this new slayer. No matter _how_ soul wearied he found himself at the thought of dealing with that kind of loss and grief yet again, so soon following Jenny Calendar's death.

It simply wouldn't be fair to the new slayer, nor would it be faithful to his oath and duties as a Watcher.

He glanced towards the phone on his desk, and then thought better of it. _'Oh, bollocks. That pillock Travers can wait until tomorrow morning, once I've had some sleep.'_ Giles really didn't want to have a discussion with the putative Council head while well rested, much less short on sleep and feeling as though the inside of his head were stuffed with fog.

Tomorrow would be soon enough.

**...**

_**Chase manor garage, mid-afternoon.**_

"Ok, now _this_ is _wicked_ cool," Faith practically vibrated in place, holding one of the arrow air-rifles in one hand and a compound crossbow in the other while standing in the midst of a scattering of open boxes, paper, and packing peanuts. "The Slay meets the 20th century."

"Is that fascination with sharp and pointy things common to all slayers?" Cordelia asked, "Or just you and Buffy?"

"Disturbing, but childlike in her simple enthusiasm," Oz said, not looking up from the workbench where he was carefully emptying and refilling paintballs with holy water. Willow nodded, and after watching him carefully, picked up another pair of syringes and began helping him empty and fill.

"She's like a guy, only with girl parts," Xander remarked, a slight note of awe in his voice. He finished loading a second rifle with a practice arrow, aimed, and fired it at the archery target by the back wall. The bolt thunked in barely a couple of inches out of the center bull, a half inch from his previous shot.

"Thank you _so_ much for that mental image, Harris," Cordelia said.

"Hey - girl likes her toys, wanna make something of it?" Faith shot her a grin, bouncing on her toes waiting her turn to shoot. Xander frowned and adjusted the sights, then reloaded. He aimed and fired again, this time with his arrow striking just outside of the bullseye.

"He shoots, he scores!" Xander put a second one in next to the first.

"And the crowd goes wild." Faith stepped forward, taking careful aim, and sinking an arrow outside of Xander's first two. She frowned, "I think mine's broke."

"Needs the sights adjusted," Xander said. He traded her his and took hers to make adjustments while she took some more shots. "That should do it," he said, setting the adjusted airgun down - empty - and moving over to another workbench to start assembling wooden arrow parts.

"Where'd you get these things?" Faith asked.

"Willow found 'em online," Xander said. "At the Wonderful Toy store."

"Cordelia paid," Oz added.

"Cool," Faith gave the cheerleader an approving look. "Must be nice to be made out of money."

"Doesn't suck," Cordelia admitted. She finished filling the water tank on a super-soaker, and set it aside to carefully fill another one.

"So," Faith set down the airgun, and wandered over to Oz and Willow's bench with her hands in her back pockets. "I get the crossbows and air-bow things, but what's with the paintball guns?"

"Holy Paintballs of Antioch," Oz said. Faith gave him a puzzled look.

"Oz's idea," Willow explained. "Holy water paintballs."

"Ah. Good plan," Faith nodded, watching Oz seal his latest paint ball with a dab of epoxy.

"Wish we'd thought of some of this stuff last year," Xander said.

"I wouldn't have been convinced to buy them last year," Cordelia countered.

"Sad, but true."

"So, when do we take them out for a test drive?" Faith asked. "And where's the best places to find the night life?"

"Tonight, if we can get enough arrows and ammo finished?" Xander suggested, "And if by nightlife, you mean the kind that goes 'grrr' in the dark, just about anywhere."

"I noticed the half dozen cemeteries walking in from the bus station," Faith said.

"Ha! Try _twelve_ cemeteries, no waiting - _and_ two new ones opening." Cordelia said.

"Not to mention the forty-three churches," Willow supplied.

"Get out of here," Faith stared at them.

"No lie," Oz nodded.

"Welcome to the Hellmouth," Xander remarked. "Then there's Willy's where all the cool vampire hunters go to beat information out of the demon bar bartender, the docks - always a popular vamp takeout strip - the bus and train station for munchable tourists, the ever popular warehouse district for a variety of vamps, demons, and other assorted nasties, _and_ woods and parks."

"Don't forget the Bronze," Cordelia added.

"Where vamps go to pick up meals on the go," Xander agreed. "And when school starts, you get to experience a whole new level of deadly strangeness munching on the students."

"Wow." Faith gave them all careful looks, as if trying to decide if her leg was being pulled. She decided they were all too casual and matter of fact about it to be joking with her. "I can see why you wanted to upgrade the arsenal." She helped herself to a soft drink out of the cooler and sat down on a stool.

"Oh - wait, not tonight," Willow said. "That band, Catwalk, is playing tonight and tomorrow at the Bronze."

"Oh, that's right." Cordelia agreed. "Have to do field tests tomorrow, maybe before heading to the club?"

"Bronze?" Faith raised an eyebrow. She remembered the name being mentioned before a few times.

"Sunnydale's only underage bar, by the bad side of town," Xander told her. "Which is about six blocks from the good side of town."

"We're a bit short on town," Cordelia said. "But we make up for it in creepy crawlies."

Faith cast a regretful look at the new slaying tools. "No big," she said, shrugging. "We got more than enough slay in the past few nights. Time to get our party on."

"All kill and no play makes a cranky slayer," Xander said, grinning.

**...**

_**The Bronze, later that evening.**_

"Bit hip hop, but otherwise, not bad," Oz jerked his head in the direction of the stage, indicating the band.

"Yeah," Faith bobbed her head in agreement. "They played the East Coast a year or so back, same bar circuit as Freak Wharf."

Xander smirked, "Me, I'm holding out for that David Hasselhoff/Will Shatner reunion tour."

"The Shat rocks," Oz said.

"In a totally lame and pathetic way, naturally," Willow added, laughing. She cocked her head, listening to the band. "The Dingos are better," she proclaimed, loyally.

Oz pursed his lips, "Except for that whole sucking thing we have going."

"Their girl singers are mega hot," Xander said, eyes fixated on the stage. Cordelia rolled her eyes and smacked him upside the head.

"You could gouge his eyes out with a spork?" Faith finished her cheesecake and held out the implement.

Cordelia looked tempted, but then shook her head. "Then I'd have to lead him around and keep him from bumping into things more than he already does."

"Grab him by the convenient carrying handle," Faith smirked. "Where the little head goes, he is sure to follow."

Willow frowned, then blushed. "Eeew."

"I would resent that," Xander said in a lofty tone, "But it's all too true."

"We know," Faith agreed. She looked over the assembled table and grinned, "Being the fifth wheel here, I'm gonna go grab something unattached and get my 'uhn' on on the dance floor. Back later." She stood and headed towards the bar, pausing to snag someone's drink off their table with a grin and slug back half of it before putting it down. Male eyes, and a few female ones, followed her leather clad rear all the way through the bar.

The others watched her make her way through the tables, and then turned to regard each other.

"So, what do you think of Miss Bahstan Slayah?" Cordelia arched an eyebrow at the others.

"Wicked enthusiastic," Oz suggested.

"Very strange," Willow said. "And much with the 'uhn' and the innuendo."

"Well," Xander paused, thoughtfully. "She's definitely different from the Buffster." Oz nodded. "And from Kendra," Xander added.

"But but - not necessarily a _bad_ different," Willow put in. "Just... different."

"Hrmm," Cordelia drummed her manicured nails on the tabletop, frowning thoughtfully. "Different's not a bad thing on that score."

"Just different," Oz nodded.

"I like her," Xander stated. His girlfriend arched her eyebrows and he held his hands up hastily, palms out. "Let me hasten to add, not _'like'_ like. Just like."

"I'll give the save a four point five, with a bonus point for the panicked expression," Cordelia said, grinning. Xander smirked and stuck his tongue out at her.

"She's fun, she's a good fighter, she doesn't freak over us suggesting new things," Xander ticked points off on his fingers, "And she's not all by-the-book roboslayer like Kendra started out."

"All good points" Oz acknowledged.

Willow glanced back and forth between them, lines forming between her eyebrows. "You say that like almost she's preferable to Buffy," she said in a slightly accusing tone.

"Will," Xander shook his head. "The Buff would be the optimum slayer package to have back." Willow nodded enthusiastically. "But _Faith_ is the slayer we have," Xander added, and Willow's face fell.

"And Buffy's the slayer we _don't_ have," Cordelia finished. Willow frowned again, but wasn't able to refute the logic.

Oz nodded to the bruise on the side of Xander's face, "Definitely proved we need a slayer," he observed.

Cordelia nodded, then rolled her eyes. "Speaking of, check out slut-bomb on the dance floor." Everyone's head turned, following Cordy's gaze, to watch Faith doing everything except climbing the frame of a large, well built, jock looking male in the center of the crowd.

"Hrrm," Xander frowned. "Umm... wasn't that guy buried a few weeks ago? I wonder if she realizes that guy's probably daylight challenged?"

"You think?" Cordelia frowned as they watched Faith pull the guy down by his shirtfront to put her mouth by his ear, and then lead him off by a hand in his belt towards the Bronze's back door.

"Maybe?" Xander got up and started heading in that direction as well, after grabbing his gym bag containing stakes and other gear from under the table.

"Oh, joy." Cordelia stood to go after him, "First night with a new band here and _we_ have to go possibly rescue a horny slayer... "

Opening the back door cautiously, they heard grunts followed by a thump and a loud crashing noise. Willow looked at the others and offered, "I don't think those are making out noises, not unless Oz and I are doing it wrong?"

"We're not, sweetheart," Oz patted her arm and Willow beamed at him. A snarl and the whoosh sound of a dusting vamp interrupted their mutual reassurance fest and Faith came out from around the dumpster twirling a stake between her fingers.

"Don't want to know where she hid the stake," Oz stated.

"Ummm, hey," Faith gave them a nod. "Had it handled, honest. But thanks."

"No problem," Xander cut his eyes to Oz and back to Faith, waggling his eyebrows. "We wanted to make sure you figured out the guy was among the living impaired."

Faith smirked, "No worries. Felt the vamp-vibe before I saw him and pulled him out on the dance floor."

Cordelia opened her mouth to make a snarky comment, but a shrill scream cut across it. "Holy crap!" Came out instead, and she spun towards the scream.

"Across the street," Faith said, and ran towards the open end of the alley, stake in hand.

"And _we_ decided not to test out the artillery tonight," Xander said. He pulled a small axe out of the gym bag, tossed a hand crossbow to Cordy, and took off after Faith. Cordelia rolled her eyes and set off after him, with Willow and Oz on her heels.

Cordelia and Xander came out of the alley mouth and rounded the corner of the building in time to glimpse Faith disappearing into the mouth of another alley and a hysterically shrieking girl running across the street towards them. Xander caught the running girl by the shoulders, only to have her flail wildly at him with her fists and nails, sobbing. He ended up having to shake her roughly to get her to focus on him.

"Calm down! It's ok! What happened?" Xander forced himself to resist the impulse to yell, trying to make his voice soothing - not an easy task with pain from the row of claw marks the hysterical girl had left across his cheek almost bringing tears to his eyes.

"B-b-bu-body! T-t-tha-that girl - it's horrible!"

Cordelia took her from Xander and aimed the girl towards the club, saying, "Look! Run for the Bronze - we'll handle it." The girl looked at her blankly, then stumbled towards the club after Cordelia shook her again and repeated, "Go!"

They reached the other alley, with Oz and Willow only a few steps behind, to find a pale looking Faith standing at the edge of a pool of blood looking down at a mutilated corpse. She turned slightly to glance over her shoulder at them as they stumbled to a halt.

"This is kinda wicked gross," she remarked. "You might want to hang on tight to your lunch." Willow didn't heed the warning and pushed up to take a look, then spun abruptly and stumbled over to the wall of the alley and threw up. Oz shook his head and went to her to hold her head and make soothing noises.

Xander came up next to Faith and looked down, then swallowed hard several times. He heard Cordelia do the same, at Faith's other side.

"Holy crap," Xander swallowed hard again as his onion rings tried to climb back out. "Can't say I haven't seen worse, but not recently... "

"Eeww," Cordelia nodded, her face white. "What did that?"

"Dunno," Faith squatted on her heels, reaching out to point at the body. "Looks like something tried to pull her ribcage out through her backbone. And it left tracks leading away," she raised her arm to draw their attention to the set of bloody marks leading away down the alley.

"Uh, should we follow them?" Xander asked, not liking that his voice came out high and squeaky at the end. Neither of the others seemed to notice, though.

Faith glanced down at her hand and then gave Xander a look that had 'what, are you retarded?' written all over it. "With a nothing but a stake, a baby axe, and a tiny crossbow?" She snorted, "Sure thing, Slick - you go right ahead. Me, I'm crazy, not stupid."

"Hate to say it, but Faith's right," Cordelia said. "Whatever did this and left tracks that size, we're going to need lots bigger weapons."

"And explosives," Oz said, coming up alongside them with Willow. Willow nodded, looking greenish.

"We should go tell Giles about this," Willow said, her voice a bit weak. The others nodded.

"Yeah," Faith stood, then had a second thought. "Whoa, wait. No - the Watcher-man was looking pretty wrung out when I talked to him. He's probably dead to the world asleep right now." She shook her head, "Don't wanna wake him up for this. Man needs his beauty rest."

Xander and Cordelia scowled, then nodded reluctantly, as did Willow after a bit. All of them knew better than Faith how hard Giles had been running himself ragged looking for Buffy all over California.

"I can swing by the library tomorrow before work in the afternoon," Xander said. "Or his apartment, and tell him about it then."

"A-a-and I can hack into the medical examiners report and see if they have pictures we can look up in the books and figure out what would do that," Willow said, her voice firming up as she spoke.

"Works," Faith nodded. "I'm not much for books, but we can all hit them and see if we can find anything, since you guys have a key to the library an' all."

"Best scram," Oz glanced over at the sound of a siren, "Speaking of Sunnydale's Lamest... "


	4. Chapter 3: Bookworms and Blood Eagles

**Chapter 3: Bookworms and Blood Eagles -**

_**Saturday August 1, 1998; Sunnydale High School Library, morning.**_

Cordelia Chase was annoyed. A perfectly good Saturday morning, and instead of spending it sensibly at the mall or boutique hopping, she was heading into the school library to spend it poring over smelly books with the Lame Gang - all because some twit couldn't be bothered to put two and two together with Sunnydale's after dark death rates and learn to stay out of dark alleys at night. Sheesh. _Some_ people.

To top that, just because Buffy Summers couldn't handle having to shove her undead boyfriend through a world sucking statue, it fell to _Cordelia Chase_, of all people, to try and provide the glue to help hold Summers' little group of oddballs together while keeping a lid on the summer demon activity.

It was a good thing that Cordelia had long ago disabused herself of any misty eyed notions about the innate fairness of the world, or she'd be working herself into a whinefest worthy of the aforementioned Slayer. _Someone_ had to do it, she was here (instead of sunning herself on a Mexican beach like she should be), and that was all there was to it. Xander had the heart and guts, but was too insecure to want to take charge; Willow was too shy; and Oz was too quiet and too comfortable being a background supporter. The hardest part was having to nudge things into place, carefully making it look as though it were Xander and Willow doing the leading, all the while keeping up a steady enough stream of complaints, snark, insults, and reluctance to prevent anyone from thinking Cordelia _wanted_ to be involved.

After all, she wouldn't want anyone to get the impression that Cordelia Chase actually, secretly, really kind of enjoyed being one of the people who helped keep the world from ending on occasion. _That_ just wouldn't do at all.

No, Cordelia Chase had more important things to concern herself than fighting monsters, such as looking good for all the right people and carefully maintaining what was left of her grasp on the upper rungs of Sunnydale High's social ladder. If she on occasion provided a hand with world saveage, or contributed to the equippage, it was all in the interests of keeping life safe for manicurists, fashion mavens, future trophy husbands, and rich entrepreneurs - all of the important people in life.

That little ping of satisfaction inside knowing that this particular ugly wasn't going to be snacking on any of her classmates, or the slight glow of pride at knowing she was one of the few people in Sunnydale actually doing something worthwhile behind the scenes just wasn't important.

Really. It wasn't. And it was hard on the wardrobe and manicure, to boot.

Reaching the small courtyard outside the back door to the library, she paused to take out her keys and check her hair and makeup one last time. Satisfied, she nodded in approval at herself and headed for the door leading into the upper stacks. Almost to the door, something niggled at the corner of her mind and she stopped, trying to recall what had caught her attention. She slowly backed up farther into the courtyard, glancing around, until she finally spotted a pair of boots at the end of a bench in one of the more hidden alcoves.

A slight frown creased her forehead, and she stepped cautiously over to get a better look, then relaxed when she saw the booted feet belonged to the new slayer, Faith, who was sprawled out dead to the world on the concrete bench.

Sighing to herself, she stepped forward quietly to poke the other girl in the shoulder, saying, "Hey!" - only to stumble back hastily when Faith sat up, wild eyed and clutching a stake in one hand and a knife in her other, her jacket sliding to the ground.

"Hey! Jeeze - what _is_ it with you slayers?" Hands on her hips, Cordelia glared at the other girl. "Paranoid much? And don't you know it's not safe to sleep outside in this town?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Sheesh, relax," Faith yawned and put the stake and knife away. "Just nodded off waiting." She stretched, then pushed her hair back from her face and rubbed her eyes. "'Time izzit?"

"Almost ten," Cordelia shook her head. "What are you doing out here?"

Faith shrugged. "Decided to go out patrolling last night after you guys left, ended up here, sat down. Musta zonked out."

"You're lucky that little Nazi troll, Snyder didn't see you sacked out here," Cordelia stated. "Or vampires." Her tone made it clear that Principle Snyder was the worse of the two, in her opinion.

"Almost daylight when I got here," Faith smirked. "No vamps."

"You were out patrolling all night?" Cordelia frowned again. "For that thing? Thought you wanted to wait for more weapons?"

Faith stretched again, yawning, then shrugged, "Battle axe in my pack under the bench." She gave Cordelia a curious look, "What're you doing here so early?"

Cordelia hid a shrewd look at the other girl behind a head toss and a careful study of her nails. She'd almost bet Faith'd gone out patrolling for the same reason Cordelia was up early and blowing off a day's shopping: seeing that partially dismembered corpse behind your eyelids every time you closed them didn't do much for restful sleep.

"Making sure Xander doesn't forget to visit Giles and fill him in," she replied. "_Someone_ has to." Cordelia sighed, "Come on. I'll get coffee started while we wait for Tweedy and Goofboy."

Faith nodded and stood, grabbing her jacket and her pack from under the bench. She gave Cordelia a curious look as she followed the other brunette to the door. "Curious. You and Harris are obviously hooked up - why are you always calling him names?"

"It's what we do," Cordelia shoved the door open, giving Faith a 'so not your business' glance as she stalked in ahead.

"Ah." Faith's mouth twitched up at the corners, but she dropped it and plopped down in a chair at the long table.

Cordelia disappeared into Giles' office and began starting the coffeemaker. "Find any sign of it?" She called out through the door.

"Naw. Just a few vamps," Faith called back. "Tracks went away a couple of blocks down."

While the coffee was making, Cordelia took down a small stack of demonaries from Giles' shelves and brought them out to the table to begin going through. Faith took one from the stack and began flipping idly through it for awhile. By the time the coffee was finished and Cordelia had gotten a cup, Faith had partially slumped over the table and fallen asleep again with her chin propped in one palm.

Cordelia hadn't found anything that killed people in that particular gruesome manner by the time Xander and Willow straggled in an hour later, laughing and jostling each other. She caught the other two's eyes and made a shushing motion, pointing to the quietly snoring slayer laying sprawled over a book.

"She was out looking for that thing all night," Cordelia said softly.

Xander nodded and quieted his voice slightly, and came over to sit next to his girlfriend, sliding a book off of the stack to flip through. Willow raised an eyebrow before shrugging off her book bag and heading to the library computer to start it up. Cordelia being considerate? That was... downright unnatural. Almost Hellmouthy, even. She sighed under her breath. Willow would be glad if, no _when_, she told herself firmly, Buffy came back and things could return to something closer to Sunnydale normal.

All of them, with the exception of the snoozing Faith, were still at it when Giles entered the library a half hour later. He paused inside the doors, taking off his glasses and glanced at the small tableau with a bemused expression. Willow waved from the computer, and Xander indicated the sleeping Faith and gave him an exaggerated finger-across-lips gesture.

Giles nodded and came over to the table before asking quietly, "And to what do I owe this unexpected show of bookish enthusiasm on a Saturday morning?"

"Joys of the Hellmouth, what else?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

"Yup." Xander leaned back in his chair and drained his coffee cup. "Girl was butchered near the Bronze last night. We're looking for something that fits."

"Oh? Why didn't you call me for research?"

"Miss Slaysalot decided your time was better spent sleeping," Cordelia said in an arch tone.

"Huzznah, nogettha'wy," Faith mumbled into the tabletop, then sat up, eyes wild and exclaimed, "Mime!" Xander snickered and she glared at him, "What!?"

Xander held his hands up, palms out placatingly, "Nothing. I'm all there with the evilness that is mime." Corelia shook her head, hiding a grin behind her book.

"Right," Faith pushed her hair back and looked around. "Mornin' G."

"Good morning, Faith," Giles replied. "And please don't call me that."

"No problem, Jeeves," Faith stood, stretching. "Any of that caffeine left?" Cordelia waved in the general direction of the office and Faith aimed herself that way.

Giles rolled his eyes, "I don't know why I even bother." He fixed Xander with a frosty glare, "I'm going to choose to blame your influence."

"Me?! I didn't do it," Xander pointed accusingly at Willow, who gave an outraged squeak. Xander slumped lower in his chair, unable to keep a half smile from appearing as Willow shot him her best 'you _will_ pay' look before turning back to the computer.

"Giles! I'm in!" Willow bounced in her seat excitedly. "The coroner's office just posted the crime photos and autopsy reports."

"Yuck," Cordelia observed.

Giles made a clucking sound under his breath. "I do hope you're being careful. I'd rather not have the Sunnydale police invading the library to haul you off for computer thuggery." He nevertheless went around the counter to peer over her shoulder at the screen.

"Cybercrime," Willow corrected, absently. "No worries, Giles. I'm careful." Willow pointed out something on the screen to him as Faith came back out clutching a mug of coffee.

"I hear Red's performing computer buggery?" Faith asked. Willow shot her an outraged look, then reddened and looked away when Faith waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh my," Giles straightened.

"Pshew!" Xander wiped imaginary sweat off of his brow. "That's a relief."

"This is good?" Faith gave him a puzzled look.

"Well, yeah. On a Standard Giles Scale of evil badness, an 'oh my' is pretty far down," Xander explained. He raised a hand and began counting off fingers, "A 'my word' means large scale death and dismemberment, but not world-endage. A 'good Heavens! with indrawn breath' is 'the world is ending but only on a local scale', while an 'oh dear lord!' means we need to duck and cover because we're all about to die horribly and in great pain just before the world gets sucked into Hell."

"While an 'oh my' is somewhere between 'that's horrible' and 'we're completely out of tea'," Willow supplied. Faith snickered.

"Thank you, Xander, and Willow," Giles' voice was dry. "I shall endeavor to remember to jot that down to send to the Council so they shall have an official scale by which to measure future catastrophes."

"No problemo," Xander waved off the comment. "We live to serve."

"Unless we all die," Cordelia added. "So, like, what's the oh-myage?"

"Beg pardon?" Giles blinked, then shook his head and said, "Only that I recognize that form of mutilation. It's called a 'Blood Eagle', a particularly gruesome form of ritualistic death-by-torture, wherein one cuts the ribs of the victim near the spine, breaking the ribs so they resembled blood-stained wings, and pulling the lungs out."

"Oh, _fine_," Cordelia shut her book with snap. "We wasted all morning going through these and you come up with that in five seconds?"

"They build it in in the Watcher Factory, C," Faith supplied, hopping up on the counter and swinging her legs idly.

"Yes," Giles remarked. "We but live to render pointless your painstaking forays into unaccustomed research."

"Score!" Xander mimed making a chalk mark with his finger. "One for the G-man."

Cordelia eyed him carefully, then slapped him smartly across the back of the head. While Xander gave her a wounded look, she folded her hands and rested her chin atop them, regarding Giles. "So, Noted Expert, what is it that does that so Thugette there can make with the slaying and we can all go about our lives?"

Faith snorted, and Giles removed his glasses and started polishing them, "Yes, well... historically, the Blood Eagle was reportedly a method of torture and execution mentioned in Norse skaldic poetry and the Norse sagas and attributed as an early Scandinavian/Germanic custom. However, other records and researches indicate that - "

"Yeah," Faith said. "Is there going to be a chase cutting here, or can I go back to sleep?"

"However," Giles gave Faith a quelling look, "it is more accurately a method of ritual killing performed by certain demonic entities and secret, mystical orders as a method of propitiating several blood and/or war deities in exchange for power. It probably passed from those societies into Norse custom."

"You mean, someone summoned up something that did that to that girl?" Willow looked more than slightly ill at the thought.

"Quite possibly," Giles nodded. "Or it could be any of several demons who draw upon the pain and blood energies for their own gratification, _or_ who use the Blood Eagle as a warning."

"Whoa, you said ritual?" Xander made a stop motion, "As in 'draw upon the Hellmouth energy for magic' type ritual?" When Giles pursed his lips and nodded, Xander rolled his eyes, "That should probably have rated at least a 'my word!' to a 'good Heavens!', don't you think?"

"Whatever," Faith broke in. "Getting back to the Queen's question, what kind of demon and how do I kill it?" Cordelia nodded, and gave Faith a look of approval.

"Hrrmm," Giles frowned. "Assuming that we do _not_ have a Nordic warrior cult taking up residence in Sunnydale, it's difficult to say. Impossible to tell from the photos of the body: it could be any number of entities or dark mystical societies." He paused, thinking for a moment, "Can you describe the scene?"

He listened as the four teens described the alley and the scene where the body was left, finally asking, "You say there were tracks leading away?"

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "Big," she held her hands about a foot and a half apart, "with four long toes with claws. They kinda petered out after a block or two."

"Undoubtedly a summoned entity, then," Giles nodded. "Judging from the photos of the blood markings, it appears to be part of a rite, rather than a punishment killing. You're probably looking for a mage of some sort with an interest in blood magics."

"Any way you can narrow down the type of demon?" Cordelia asked, giving her nails a critical look. "Senior year's going to be boring enough without having half the graduating class sacrificed before summer's out."

"Not without a description of the demon, I'm afraid, and not merely from a description of the tracks." Giles shook his head, "And I'm very afraid that I must be finishing up here soon so that I can be on my way. I had merely thought to stop by for my list of desired volumes before heading out."

"Great." Cordelia said. "So there's not only no point in wading through the books until we know what we're looking for, you're not even going to be here to help out?"

Giles gave a regretful sigh. "I'm afraid not," he said. "I have to be in San Diego by this evening to meet with the seller's agent I've located, and I really can't afford to miss this opportunity - there is simply no telling when these particular volumes might be available again." He stuck his hands in his front pockets, looking thoughtful. "However, I shall be back by late evening tomorrow, I believe. Monday morning, at the latest."

"No worries," Faith hopped down from the counter. "We can patrol and keep our eyes open and see if we spot the thing while you're gone."

Giles nodded, "Do be careful." He added, "And possibly Willow can keep searching with that infernal device to see if there've been other, similar, killings that have escaped our notice, possibly forming some noticeable pattern."

"I can do that," Willow brightened and turned back to her keyboard.

Faith looked over at the others as Giles nodded to Willow before going into his office. "Huh. Where's Oz?"

"Oh - he's practicing with the Dingos." Willow grinned, "They have a gig next week!"

"Good for them," Faith nodded. "So, you guys said there's a demon bar in this burg?"

"Willy's." Xander nodded. "It's in the warehouse district in the area where the Bronze is."

"Cool." Faith cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, bouncing on her toes a bit. "Wanna show me where, and we can go shake this guy down and see if he knows about any sorcerers doing a bit of demon summoning?"

"Not me," Cordelia made a face. She stood up and started gathering books to re-shelve. "I'm going to the mall and try to salvage what's left of the day before heading to the Bronze tonight."

"Can't," Xander said, shaking his head with a regretful expression. "Have to be at the summer job pretty soon or the boss will Blood Eagle _me_." He glanced at Cordelia and started helping to gather books together, "Drop me off over there on your way so I can escape unemployment?"

"Oh, fine." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "It's not on the way, but who cares." She smirked, "You'll do anything to avoid shopping, won't you?"

Xander shuddered, "Give me the joys of stacking bags of concrete over the horrors known as 'women's clothing stores' any day of the week." He looked at Faith and said, "I can meet you after I get off and we can go shake down Willy's before patrolling?"

"Suits," Faith shrugged. "I can stand to finish my sleep, anyway."

**...**

_**Saturday evening; Willy's Alibi Room.**_

Faith gave the inside of Willy's a slow once over, smirking. "Man, this place is a dump."

"And yet it still attracts a better class of clientèle than the Fish Tank," Xander said, standing beside and slightly behind her with one of the air-rifle crossbows resting on his hip, aimed at the ceiling.

"Little meatbags should stay out of demon bars," a vampire in game face said, standing up with a pair of others from a center table.

Faith gave him a slow look up and down, casually lowering the compound crossbow in her hand and triggering it. She looked past the resulting dust cloud at the other two and said, "Good little vamps should learn to keep their mouths shut."

"Meet the New Slayer," Xander remarked. "Not the same as the Old Slayer." The other vamps made a placating gesture and sat down slowly, still in game face. The other demons in the place, both human-looking and non, exchanged looks and mutters, but kept their seats.

"Hey, hey, hey! Kid... " A rat faced little man that Faith assumed was probably 'Willy' came around the end of the bar, wringing a bar towel in his hands. "No need for that. Willy's is always open to friends of the Slayer - no need to shoot up the customers, now, jeeze."

Faith put her foot in the crossbow stirrup and re-cocked it easily while Xander watched the rest of the bar. She dropped a wooden bolt into the channel and straightened, smirking at Willy. "You serve vamps in this joint?"

"No, just drinks, usually," Willy snarked. His eyes crossed and he went pale as Faith lowered the tip of the crossbow bolt to his nose. "Whoa! Easy."

"Funny guy," Faith remarked.

"Easy, Faith," Xander said. "Willy's actually a human. Even if he doesn't look it."

"Human that serves vamps," Faith jerked her head towards the bar and followed Willy as he backed up to and then around behind it. "Worst kind of scumbag."

"Hey now," Willy said, eyes still fastened to the tip of the crossbow bolt. "No need to get personal." He spread his hands, "Man's gotta make a living."

Faith set her double bladed axe on the bar top, giving the weaselly little man a vicious looking smile. Xander set his back to the bar and watched the rest of the room, nervously.

"We're interested in a demon that's wandering around killing teenage girls," Faith said. "You know anything about that?"

"Hey, all of _my_ customers are peaceful types," Willy said. At Faith's smirk he added, "Except maybe the vampires."

"This thing leaves big, four toed footprints and butchers people with something called a 'Blood Eagle'," Xander said over his shoulder. "Ring any bells?"

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" Willy shook his head, "Still nothing."

Faith reached into her front pocket and tossed a few twenties on the bar top. "How about a new - or old - sorcerer in town doing blood rituals and summonings?"

Willy licked his lips and reached for the bills, only to have Faith slap her hand down on them before he touched them. He sighed, "No, haven't, sorry." He sounded just regretful enough, looking at the money, to be telling the truth.

Faith nodded slowly, and pulled back the twenties and stuck them back in her pocket. She raised the crossbow so it wasn't aimed at Willy's nose any longer. "You do and pass it on, you still might be a winner." She grinned then, "You do and don't say, and this could get ugly."

"Hey - I'm _real_ civic minded," Willy nodded. "Always happy to keep my eyes open."

"Wicked," Faith picked up her axe and headed towards the door. "Let's blow this joint, Xan."

Xander backed out after her, sagging and letting his breath out loudly once the door shut behind them without incident. He glanced sideways at Faith. "Buffy usually beats Willy up and trashes the place."

"But that's B," Faith said, shrugging. "Can always use that as option two if needed."

"Yeah," Xander shook his head. "You know, the other two vamps bugged out the back while you were talking to Willy. Probably for friends."

"Cool - could use some action," Faith said. "Violence with no slay at the end gets me wound up."

The pair had almost made it out of the warehouse district when their two undead friends - with a third - stepped out of the shadows onto the sidewalk in front of them. Faith stopped and gave the trio a casual, and unimpressed, glance over. Xander turned to look behind them and stepped back, bumping into Faith.

"They did go for reinforcements," he observed. The calmness in his voice gave him a surreal feeling.

"Oh?"

"Three more behind," Xander stated, pointing the air crossbow at the center one of the trio behind them, watching the three vamps spread out slightly as they moved in.

"We already drove off one Slayer," the taller of the two from Willy's said, stepping up as his two friends stepped to each side. "We don't need a new one in town."

He dusted with a surprised look when Faith brought her crossbow down level and triggered it, the bolt taking him through the heart. The other two froze for a moment, and she grinned ferally, leaping forward with the axe as she let the crossbow fall and drew a stake.

Xander nailed the closest of his trio with a lucky heart snap-shot as they snarled and lunged forward, vaguely aware of Faith's movements. Then he had to concentrate on getting out the holy water loaded paint-pistol and focusing on the two remaining vamps, and lost track of what was going on with Faith. His next closest vamp fell back screaming with several paintballs splattering across its face, but the third came in way too fast and caught him in the upper stomach and ribs with a punch as it slapped the paint pistol from his hand.

Falling backwards with the vamp on top of him and snarling in his face, Xander caught another blow to his ribs as he brought a knee up. He lost the air rifle, but managed to both jam a forearm under the vamp's chin and get out his stake as they hit the ground.

The stake went up and in from under the vamp's ribcage just as his arm gave way, and there was a 'whoosh' and a foul stench just as a set of yellowed fangs were reaching for his throat.

"Bastard," Faith's muttered curse sounded like it came from a long way off as Xander shook his head, clearing the vamp dust from his eyes and coughing. He felt a small, impossibly strong hand grip his forearm, and he gripped hers in return, allowing the smaller girl to haul him to his feet.

"Thanks," Xander said.

"Other one ran like hell," Faith said. Xander nodded, then noticed Faith looking him over with an indecipherable expression. She finally broke off her study of him and nodded once, abruptly. "You handled yourself pretty good, there."

"Thanks," Xander said, for the second time. "I'm no Slayer, but... " he shook his head and gave her a lopsided grin. "Started to say, 'but I do all right', except that 'doing all right' usually means bruises, fractures, and screaming girlishly in pain on a regular basis."

"Yeah, well," Faith grinned back at him, "You kept three off my back while I dusted the others. That's not too bad for a white boy."

"I'm sure I'll consider that high praise tomorrow when I'm groaning and crippling around, and you're fresh as a daisy," Xander ducked his head with a half grin, uncomfortable both with the left-handed praise and Faith's scrutiny.

"Slayer healing, gotta love it," Faith said, laughing. "Wanna swing through a couple of the cemeteries out this way before circling back to the Bronze?"

Xander gathered up the air rifle and his paintball pistol, and shrugged. "Why not? Might as well follow up a successful fight by proving it was a fluke."

"That's the spirit," Faith said, still grinning. "You can only die once, right? Unless you're turned and I have to stake you."

**...**

_**Bronze, after patrol.**_

Back at the Bronze later, Faith thumped Xander good naturedly on the shoulder and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him to join the others at their table. He made his way over and plopped down, rubbing his shoulder with a rueful expression. He slid his duffel under the table and leaned back in the booth. "We left the bag o' slay-tools in the back of your van," he told Oz.

"Works," Oz nodded. "Let you know when we head out so you can get them."

"Any luck?" Willow smiled at him from next to Oz.

"Not really," Xander shook his head. "Dusted some vamps that followed us from Willys, and took out a few fledglings on patrol, but otherwise - a bust."

"Scoot over," Cordelia bumped his shoulder with her hip and slid in next to him when he complied. Xander leaned in and she pulled him by his collar to her for a deep kiss, making Willow scowl and look away. Shoving him back, she added, "Too bad. Means we can look forward to more death and dismemberment."

"Yeah, sad, but true." Xander shrugged, "Any luck on them intarwebs, Will?"

Willow made a face, "Not really. Usual run of mysterious disappearances, runaways, and 'running with BBQ fork' accidents, but no past Blood Eagley type killings."

"Ah, so we're present at the beginning of a new era in Hellmouthy goodness," Xander said, sighing.

"Life on the cutting edge," Oz said. "Trendsetters."

"Anyone else remember the good old days when summer marked a lull in vamps and demonic style murders?" Xander asked in a plaintive voice. "Why, I remember it as if it were only last summer."

"That's because it _was_ only last summer, Doof." Cordelia said, bumping him with her shoulder. A waitress came by taking drink orders, and they left off the slaying talk until she came back with them and left again.

"It's the _Principle_ of the Thing," Xander picked up where he'd left off. "Demons should observe time honored traditions, instead of upending the status quo," he grinned. "Mark my words, young missy - no good will come of it."

'Young missy?' Willow mouthed, rolling her eyes at her friend's banter. "Maybe they're creating a new tradition?"

"Demon Kwanza?" Oz asked with a lifted eyebrow. "Never catch on," he shook his head.

"Let's hope it doesn't," Cordelia stated. "Their celebration events are so _ick_."

"We're doomed now," Xander sighed. "Now that you've said that, it'll be an annual event."

"Hey guys," Faith shimmied over to the table, leading a beefy looking and obviously enthralled, tall blonde haired teen in her wake. "I'm gonna grab me some take out here and motor. You guys be all right?"

Cordelia nodded to Faith's companion, recognizing him as one of the half-backs from St. Michael's. She shrugged and nodded.

"Oh yeah, we'll make with the fort hold-downage," Willow said.

"Sure, you crazy kids go have fun," Xander said, grinning. "Us old folks will dotter here and limp back home later."

Faith snickered, "Cool. Look you up tomorrow." Tossing her hair back, she led the dazed looking jock off towards the doors.

"Moo." Xander said, causing Willow to almost snort coke out her nose.

"He did look like a calf going to slaughter," Oz suggested. Cordelia smirked.

"C'mon, geek-boy. Let's go hit the floor." She pulled up a tokenly resisting Xander by the arm and led him away from the booth, ignoring his panicked expression and silently mouthed 'Help me!' to the others.

"Moo." Oz said, making Willow choke again. He watched his Willow as her eyes followed Xander and Cordelia out to the dance floor, seeing the play of emotions across her face that showed her ongoing struggle to wrap her mind around the concept of 'her' Xander and Cordelia together.

Willow turned back to Oz, and smiled, misreading his study of her. "So," she started.

"Just so," Oz agreed.

"So, you think that Faith is going to, to... I mean with that guy?" Willow slowly flushed beet red, unable to articulate the exact 'going to' she had in mind.

Oz pursed his lips, considering, then nodded. "Probably."

Willow's eyes went round. "But but... isn't that, you know, kinda," she made a vague gesture.

Oz tilted his head, thinking through his answer, then said, "Not necessarily."

"But," Willow frowned. "Shouldn't people like, be in love or something first?"

"If they want." Oz shrugged, "For some people, people like us, that's best." The 'like us' got a smile out of Willow, as he'd intended. "For others?" He quirked an eyebrow, "Depends."

"Depends on what?" A crease formed between Willow's brows.

"Faith's a slayer, right?" Willow nodded. Oz shrugged again, "There you go. What if she runs into that thing that's killing, maybe tomorrow night?"

"Oh! And it... " Willow processed that, then looked slightly ill. "DoestoFaithwhatitdidtothatgirland -" she cut herself off abruptly.

"Right," Oz nodded, drawing a finger across his throat. "Shouldn't she get whatever enjoyment there is to have before that?"

"I guess," Willow said, thoughtfully. "Kind of a 'eat, drink, be merry' thing." Willow frowned again and stated, decisively, "But Buffy wouldn't do that, though."

"Faith's not Buffy." Oz shrugged. "Different people."

Willow scowled, not happy about the reminder. "You like Faith, don't you."

Oz deliberated on that, then nodded. "So far," he allowed. "But I like you more."

"Good," Willow beamed at him. "Wanna go dance?"

"Yup."


	5. Chapter 4: Armageddon' It, You?

**Chapter 4: Armageddon' It, You?**

**Sunday August 2, 1998; Sunnydale High library, past noonish.**

Faith pushed open the door leading to the library stacks, the through the stacks and bounced down the stairs to the lower level. It occurred to her that the last several days, she was spending more time in school voluntarily - and enjoying it more - than she ever had during the last year she was enrolled in one. _'Too weird,'_ she thought.

She paused halfway down the stairs, looking around and not seeing anyone except the little red-headed chick at the library computer.

"Hey, Red," she called out. "Where is everyone?"

"Hey, Faith." Willow looked up from her screen. "Oz - practicing. Xander? Sleeping in: it's Sunday. Cordelia? Who knows?"

Faith grinned to her self hearing the hacker's under her breath mutter of "And who cares?" She hadn't quite figured out all of the dynamics of the strange little vampire hunting group yet, but she had figured out that Cordelia wasn't one of Willow's favorite people. Probably because of the red-head's decidedly proprietary airs towards Xander Harris, and the fact that the cheerleader had him. Oh, well.

Hopping up on the counter, Faith watched Willow go back to her browsing, drumming her fingers on her thigh, impatiently. "So - finding anything interesting?"

Frown. "Not really." Willow sighed, "I'm thinking there's probably not anything until we get some idea of where to look for ties from the dead girl to our demon. Or our sorcerer."

Faith made a face, "Like another body or two."

"Yeah," Willow made a face of her own. "Hoping not, but... " She shook her head and decided to change the subject. "So, have fun last night?" Willow gave Faith her best innocent look, but couldn't stop a small, rather wicked smile from twitching at the corners of her mouth.

Faith tossed her hair, laughing. "Nothing great, but not bad. Kinda took the edge off, y'know?" Faith made fists, pumping her hands toward her hips, and laughing again when Willow flushed red all the way up to her hairline.

"Umm... TMI?" Willow turned hastily back to her computer screen and riveted her attention on to her search engine.

"No worries, Willow," Faith grinned. "Just messin' with you, you know?" She smirked, asking, "What about you and Guitar-man? Not rockin' the springs in the back of the zebra van after the Bronze?"

Willow's blush crept up to the tip of her visible ear and she mumbled, "UmOzandIaren'tthereyetwe'rewaitingtilit'srightOK?"

A pair of lines furrowed between Faith's eyebrows as she tried to decipher the sudden rush of words, then she bobbed her head, nodding. "That's cool. Makes it kinda like, romantic and shit, right?"

"You think so?" Willow turned back to her, Willow's eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Yeah, well, not like I know much from _romantic_ or nothing, but," Faith pushed her hair back from her face, "Means the guy likes you if he's willing to wait for you, right? That's kinda neat."

"Yeah, Oz is cool," Willow agreed, nodding.

"There you go," Faith said. "No need to rush."

"I guess," Willow said, doubtfully. "But what about you? I mean, don't you... "

"Nah." Faith shook her head, starting to wonder how she'd managed to get into this conversation with the shy red-head. "Me and boyfriends don't mix too good. Rather get and get gone than deal with losers and kleptos."

From the looks of things, Willow seemed to be wondering how they got here, too.

"But... isn't that kind of... I mean, don't you miss having someone?" Willow's eyes went slightly wide again and she frowned.

"It's no big, really." Faith shrugged. "I _like_ sex. Takes me out of myself, you know? It's fun. And this gets me the best of both - no having to deal with some guy thinking he owns me or nothing." At Willow's frown, she added, "Don't get me wrong. Doesn't mean I don't appreciate something like what you and Oz have or Xander and Cordy. It's just... not for me."

"But... " Willow's train of thought was interrupted by the main doors opening, and the entry of Xander and Cordelia, with Oz following just behind.

"Hey, guys," Faith's greeting was more than slightly relief tinged from having the conversation interrupted.

"Oz!" Willow bounced up, beaming at her boyfriend.

"Hey," Oz said. "Devon bailed, so... " He shrugged. "Freedom."

"Will, Faith," Xander threw a grin to both girls in greeting. Cordelia pushed past him to toss her bag on the main table.

"So, find anything useful?" She asked. At Willow's headshake, she turned to Xander and swatted him on the shoulder, "See? Loser. I told you there wasn't much point in rushing up here."

"Yes, dear." Xander rolled his eyes. "You did - repeatedly. And over and over. And... "

"_Fine_, I get the picture," Cordelia plopped into a chair and blew a strand of dark hair from her eyes, then shot a wide grin at the others. "Hi Faith, Willow."

"Hey, C." Faith laughed. Despite herself, she was starting to like the snarky cheerleader.

"So. Have we a plan?" Oz looked up from giving his girlfriend a hello kiss.

"No, unfortunately," Willow shook her head. "No information means we're planless." She bit her lip, adding, "I found out the girl went to Kent Preparatory, but I'm not sure where that leads us."

"Kent?" Cordelia frowned, "That's the college that had the fraternity with the reptile demon worshipers."

"Reptile demon?" Faith's interest sharpened.

"Yeah, and like, yuck!" Cordelia nodded, "They tried to sacrifice Buffy and me to this huge lizard demon last year."

Willow was shaking her head, "No, that was Crestwood College. This is Kent Preparatory - the college prep and sibling school to St. Michael's. Sibling school?" She cocked her head, thinking, "Still a big fraternity school though."

"Could be a trend?" Oz suggested.

"What all the 'In' frat rats are doing this year?" Xander tilted his head, considering. "We find anything else pointing that way, it could be worth checking."

"It's a thought," Cordelia said. "But not you - " she pointed at Xander, "- last time they dressed you up like a girl and hazed you."

"And you've _never_ been able to deal with the fact that I was a hotter looking girl than you," Xander smirked.

"You _so_ were not!"

Laughing, Faith broke in before they could really get going. "Since we can't really do much until patrol tonight, what's up for the day? Anything?"

"Well... since I dragged Cordelia away from planning her future as designer and consumer of her own line of fashionable hooker wear," Xander ducked as Cordelia aimed a slap to the back of his head, "We could all head to the Mega-View and catch Armageddon before it leaves the theaters."

While the others discussed the merits of the suggestion, Faith did a quick mental review of her finances. On the one hand, she wasn't broke, but she really needed to make her roll last as long as possible until she found some way of supplementing it. Other hand... she couldn't get into too much of a habit of begging off from invitations like this, or they'd think she was snubbing them and start blowing her off.

Faith figured it was only a matter of time until the little gang started doing that anyway, like everyone else she'd known - no need to rush it.

She decided as long as she didn't do it _too_ often, she could handle a movie and popcorn.

"Faith?" Xander's voice drew her out of her thoughts. "We have two 'nay', two 'yeas' - you're up."

"Tie breaker, huh? Sure," Faith let a grin slip onto her face. "As long as we grab some food after, I'm in. Bruce Willis, explosions, and giant space rocks. What's not to like?"

"Mexican place near the cinema-plex," Oz stated.

"See?" Xander grinned. "A guy with girl parts."

"But... " Willow looked back at the computer, obviously torn. "I really should start looking into that college thing, and -"

"C'mon, Red," Faith shook her head. "Put the 'fun' back into functional. Live dangerously, go out on the edge, caution to the winds."

"Jeeze, it's just a movie," Cordelia said. "Not a bungee jump."

"Raisinettes," Oz said.

Willow's face set in a determined expression. "Fine! I will! T-th-the internet can wait!"

"There ya go, Will," Faith smirked. "Today - a movie. Tomorrow: leather mini-skirts, fishnet hose, stiletto heels, and thigh boots."

Oz took on a decidedly introspective expression at that. Willow squeaked and threw Faith a horrified look.

"C'mon Will," Xander took one arm while Oz took the other and began leading her to the door. "The mean old Slayer was only kidding about the thigh boots."

Oz said, "Hmmm," as Cordelia tossed Faith a wide grin and an 'after you' gesture.

**...**

_**Afternoon, Delgado's Restaurante.**_

"Ok, so yeah, the flying mars-rover _was_ kinda far fetched, but... " the waitress with their orders interrupted Xander's exposition on the relative merits of the f/x in Armageddon.

Faith dug into her huge plate of Enchiladas Rancheros as soon as it hit the table, after covering it liberally with pico de gallo, sour cream, and hot sauce. She closed her eyes and leaned back appreciatively after the first bite, then gave Oz a thumbs up. "Good plan."

Oz gave back a slight smile and a nod, digging into his own portion a bit more sedately.

"And I thought Harris could pack away the food, wow," Cordelia said.

"Slayer metabolism, gotta love it," Faith remarked. She didn't care to explain that most of her meals tended to be the cheapest she could find to stretch out her funds, so when she _did_ have a chance to eat good - she packed it away. It seemed like she was always hungry these days, ever since Diana's death had caused Faith to leave Boston.

Cordelia watched her surreptitiously for a few moments, then nodded slightly to herself. "Must be nice," was all she said. She started in on her taco salad. "I ate that, I'd be exercising it off my hips for weeks."

Xander opened his mouth, then shut it again hastily at Cordelia's warning look. He grinned and went back to dissecting the scientific implausibilities of the movie with Willow.

"Get my exercise on patrol," Faith shrugged. "Fighting vamps burns it off fast." She dug a cluster of chips into the bowl of picante and wolfed them down before going back to her rapidly clearing plate.

"Especially the numbers we've been seeing," Cordelia agreed. "A _lot_ more than we saw all summer last year."

"Acathla?" Oz lifted an eyebrow. Faith gave him a puzzled look.

"You mean like, some kind of," Cordelia made a vague gesture, "residue drawing them in after?"

"Hrmm." Faith started to say something, then stopped, shaking her head.

"What?"

"Maybe nothing," Faith said. She frowned, "Just... something one of the vamps from Willy's threw at us. Said something like: 'We drove off one slayer, don't need another here' or something."

Xander nodded, and Cordelia tilted her head, looking thoughtful. "You mean, like, word got out that there's no slayer here, so the Hellmouth's drawing them in more?"

Faith spread her hands, not liking Willow's frown. "Hey - just reporting what the bloodsucker said."

"Good thing you showed up then," Cordelia said, giving a decisive nod. She caught Willow's look and threw her hands up, "I'm just saying. I don't like most of our 'classmates'," she made air quotes around the word, "but it _would_ be nice to have more than the five of us left by graduation."

"Four of you," Faith said. She met the looks that got with a half-grin, "Hey - I dropped out before I got Chosen."

"But... but... No school?" Willow asked. "None?"

"You just trod on one of Willow's sacred cornerstones, and then kicked it to death," Xander explained. "The Willow is all about the joys of schoolwork."

"Oh yeah - _make_ fun," Willow pouted. "Some of us _like_ school."

"Hey, nothing wrong with that," Faith said. "Just I can't see much point when it's likely I won't finish. Slayer," she pointed to her self, "Short lifespan, six month to two year shelf life. They kinda go together." She met Willow's eye narrowing and slight frown with, "'S'a fact, Red."

"But, you _might_ make it a lot longer," Willow said. "Don't you care?"

"Sure, I care," Faith said, eyes narrowing. "But that doesn't mean it won't happen. Just being realistic, is all."

"Well," Xander cut across the impending argument, "_We'll_ just have to help make sure it doesn't happen. No slayers dying on _our_ watch." He grinned, "I won't have it, missy." Willow's face set in agreement, and Faith saw Xander and Cordelia exchange a brief serious look and slight nods.

Her lips twitched in spite of herself, and Faith said, "Well, since you have The Power an' all, I guess that settles it."

"Darn tootin'" Willow stated. "No more talk of Scooby Gang dying."

"'Scooby Gang'?" Faith's eyebrow's shot up. "What the fuck, over?"

"Scooby Gang," Cordelia shook her head, but with a slight grin. "Welcome to the slayer support team, aka the 'Scoobies'." She put up her hands to ward off Faith's incredulous glare, "Hey! I wanted at least a cool name if I was going to hang with these losers, but nooo... "

"So who's idea was this?" Faith shook her head, a smile working its way out at the corners of her lips. Three index fingers pointed at Xander, and she started laughing. "Shoulda known."

"Hey! In my own defense," Xander said, "I'll point out that before that, we were the Slayerettes."

"Buffy and the Slayerettes?" Faith snickered, "I see why you changed it."

"Hey!" Willow put in, doing her best to look outraged, but unable to keep a smile from breaking out. "Buffy and the Scoobies is a _great_ name, you, you..."

"Uncouth Barbarian?" Faith suggested, waggling her eyebrows.

"Well, yeah!" Willow giggled. "What would you call us?"

"Hrmm... " Faith leaned back and popped another handful of chips in her mouth while pretending to ponder the issue. "Dunno. Howsabout, 'Faith and the Night Watchmen'?"

"Well," Cordelia drawled, "Except there was no Faith back then, and women have the majority presence."

"Details, details," Faith made a dismissive motion, grinning, "no big. What's next, anyway?" She looked out over the empty plates scattered around the table, feeling comfortably stuffed.

"Mall?" Cordelia said, hopefully.

Faith cut over Xander's beginning panicked look with a raised eyebrow, "Dunno. They have any decent leather?"

"Hrmm," Cordelia gave her a speculative look back. "There's at least three decent women's leather wear stores that I'd be caught dead in."

Xander froze looking between Cordelia and Faith with his mouth open, eyes glazing over. Willow snickered and Oz lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh, _fine_," Cordelia slapped Xander on the side of the head, "_I've_ been trying to get you to want to mall rampage for over a _year_ now, but she says 'leather' _once_ and you're all there?"

"Gets 'em every time, C." Faith waggled her eyebrows. "Two smokin' babes like us in tight leathers?" Xander derailed again, his mouth working. "All the blood rushes to the little head and you can lead 'em anywhere."

Willow choked on a mouthful of ice tea, coughing.

The waitress brought refills for their tea, and after asking if they needed anything else, set their checks on the table. Faith reached for hers to see what the damage was, only to find Cordelia's hand already snagging both it and Xander's.

"Hey!" Both of them objected at once.

"Oh, please," Cordelia said. "I've got it."

"Don't need the charity, C," Faith said, a slight dangerous edge to her voice. "I can pay."

"As if!" Cordelia rolled her eyes, "I don't _do_ charity." She met Faith's glare evenly. "Look - you're helping to keep my fashionably clad rear intact so I can stay in the _back_ lines where I should be, instead of up front with the bad guys. _Least_ I can do is pick up a meal on occasion."

Faith grumbled under her breath, then shrugged as Cordelia put the three checks down with a credit card on top. "If you put it that way, I guess... "

"I do," Cordelia flashed the thousand watt grin at her, then swatted Xander's hand as he tried to sneak his cheque out. "And you - you're supposed to be saving for a tux for Homecoming, and for taking me out somewhere nice after."

Xander gave her a half-grin, and exchanged an 'I tried' look with Faith. Faith shrugged again and said, "I'll tip, then."

Oz put down cash for himself and Willow, and said quietly, "I'm normally all good with the leather, but I think I'm going to get Will to help me with some electronics."

"You're going to leave me alone? In a mall?" Xander's eyes grew wide, "With _them_?!"

"Sorry, man," Oz shrugged, smiling.

"Fine," Xander threw his napkin on the table and dug out some bills to add to the tip, as Faith an Cordelia smirked at each other. "Gender traitor."

"Still got the weapons in the van box," Oz said as he and Willow stood. "Meet you guys for patrol, later?"

**...**

"You'd look good in this," Cordelia held a lightweight, wine-red leather shirt up to Faith and gave it a look over with a practiced eye.

"Hrrm," Faith took the blouse and checked it out, dubiously, in one of the mirrors. "Probably." She handed it back, sighing, "Out of my price range, though." She'd managed to resist the temptation on most things, only breaking down and splurging once on a pair black and red of lace-up-the-sides leather pants and a matching top Cordelia'd pointed out. She'd looked longingly at a pair of Harley Davidson dress style boots, but managed to resist them.

Cordelia nodded and hung it back up. "Make note of it for later, anyway. Post-summer sales."

"Right," Faith picked up her bags and sauntered after the other girl, grinning as she watched Cordelia do her 'expert combat shopper' thing through the rest of the boutique.

The other brunette had proven to have a surprisingly good eye for both style and for frugality: always finding the very best items, and seeming to have a knack for spotting a sale or a markdown from three stores away across a crowded mall. She also managed to keep up a constant, ongoing, and hilarious diatribe covering everything from snarky observations about other shoppers and their fashion sense - or lack thereof - or shortcomings in various merchandise and the over/under-ratedness of various designers.

The three hour shopping whirl did a solid job of cementing the impressions Faith had been forming the past few days of the cheerleader. Underneath the shallow appearing, tactless, fashion obsessed, critical, and seemingly mean spirited facade, Cordelia Chase was bluntly honest, straightforward, remarkably perceptive, and, a lot sharper than Faith was willing to bet most people gave her credit for. There was also a lot more going on under the surface there than Faith thought probably anyone - except maybe Xander - usually saw.

None of which particularly surprised Faith much: she herself seldom showed people more of herself than she absolutely had to. She sensed more than a bit of her own attitude of 'what they don't see, they can't use against you' in the high school Queen.

After finishing with the last shop, they grabbed Orange Julius' from one of the nearer food courts and settled in on a bench to sip their drinks and rest before going to hunt up Xander. Faith leaned back, crossing her feet in front of her with a contented sigh and chuckled.

"What?" Cordelia gave her a sharp look.

"Nothing," Faith shook her head. She'd suddenly realized that this was damned near one of the best days she'd had since she found out she was Chosen - and this one without the underlying twinge of knowing someone had died for it to happen to spoil it.

"Oh?" Cordelia quirked an eyebrow. "All right."

"Just... " Faith trailed off. She shook her head, just _knowing_ that she was about to come off like ten different kinds of doofus here.

"Ok, either spill, or forever hold your peace," Cordelia said, grinning. "But no more cryptic, leading comments."

"Right," Faith nodded. "Just... I never really had this before," she gestured around the mall.

"No malls in Boston?" Cordelia's eyebrow arched upwards.

"No." Faith snorted, "We _had_ malls." She shook her head, "I mean, this. Running around with a gal pal shopping, gossiping, and shooting the shit, y'know? Had friends, but not buds - not like real friends." She paused, then ventured, "It's kinda fun."

Cordelia stared at her long enough for Faith to flush slightly, then looked away, taking a sip from her straw before nodding. "Yeah." Softer, almost under her breath she added, "Me either."

"Huh?" Faith gave her a slightly incredulous look.

Cordelia raised her chin slightly with a defiant air. "I said: 'me either'. Not really."

"You're shitting me?" Faith shook her head, "Right. Money, looks, cool car, big place - bet you've always had lots of friends."

"Oh, please." Cordelia shot her a dark look, and snorted. "Look. I don't even know why I'm telling you this - and if you ever tell _anyone_, I _will_ hurt you badly - but let me tell you what I've got."

"I'm listening," Faith leaned back, twisting around to watch the cheerleader's face directly.

"This is how it works in most places: damned near everyone will use you for what they can get, and move on," Cordelia stated. "I have parents with lots of money who aren't ever there. I have a bunch of sycophants who trail around me like sheep because they want a leg up the 'cool ladder' or they want to be attached to 'The Chases'. I have guys chasing me because they want the ego boost of nailing the hottest socialite in Sunnydale for bragging rights. And girls, if I swung that way. And guys who figure that I'm an easy way to marry my Daddy's money."

Faith nodded, not pointing out the obvious of 'at least you have a family and money'. Cordelia went on, "The only _real_ friends I've ever had are Buffy Summers and her little band of loser monster hunters. Sure, they're geeks, and little Willow cordially hates my guts because she thinks I'm taking her best-friend-4ever Xander away, and Giles couldn't get more stuffy if you stuck an air hose up his behind, but - they're doing something _real_ besides just worrying about who's nailing who and what and who's back to climb over next."

"Being a part of it makes me real," Cordelia turned to face Faith squarely, looking her dead in the eye, and her voice went softer. "They'll make you real too, if you let them."

Faith looked away, "What if I don't want to be real?"

"Sure you do. Everyone who's worthwhile does," Cordelia nodded decisively, as if that settled it. "Hell, you're already real. You're a hero."

Faith stared at her, then snorted derisively. "Right."

"Sure you are. Because I said so and I'm always right." Cordelia flashed her the megawatt grin and Faith found herself grinning back in spite of herself. "And because we need a hero, not a whiny little girl who's always complaining about how horrible it is to never be normal again while humping vampires and needing to be forced into doing something about them after they go psycho." She gave Faith a serious look, "And if you _ever_ repeat that I said _that_, I won't hurt you - I'll kill you. Dead."

"wow." Faith's eyes widened slightly as she stared at the other girl. "Heh. So, I take it you don't much like the Buffy, huh?"

"I like Buffy Summers fine," Cordelia said, shaking her head. "I just don't respect her very much. It's mutual."

"But you respect me for some reason?"

"I don't know yet," Cordelia said frankly. "You haven't given me any reason _not_ to, though." Faith nodded, and Cordelia went on, "So there you have it. I really don't have many real friends, and the few I do have don't like me very much. Except maybe Xander. So don't try to tell me I don't know."

"I won't. Not again," Faith nodded. The matter of fact tone and very real, very hidden undercurrent of pain and loneliness in the cheerleader's voice precluded Faith having her leg pulled. She turned to face the other girl again, and stuck out her hand, "So, you think we might could manage 'friends'?"

Cordelia arched her eyebrows, then put out her hand and shook on it. "I think we might could work on it and see where it goes."

"Wicked." Faith grinned, and then covered it with a sip of her Julius. "Gotta warn you: I'm not very good at this stuff."

"Me either," Cordelia admitted. "We'll probably screw it up and hate each other forever."

"Most likely," Faith nodded.

"One thing, though - we're going to have to work on your vocabulary and wardrobe," Cordelia suggested, laughing. "And this little talk?"

"Never happened," Faith stated.

"Now you're getting it," Cordelia beamed.

"So, how're my favorite ladies doing?" Xander's voice cut into their discussion, and both looked over to see him wandering up with a comic store sack.

"Bonding and plotting, what else?" Cordelia stood and leaned in to give him a long, smoldering kiss.

"Plot away if it results in _that_," Xander's said, surprise evident in his voice. "Wow. What was that for?"

"Hey - don't question the clothes horse, Tiger," Faith smirked. "Just enjoy."

"Bags," Cordelia pointed imperiously at her shopping trophies. "Consider it... the positive reinforcement principle. You suffer through a few stores with us before cutting out to do manly pursuits," Faith eyed Xander's comic bag and mouthed 'manly?' with a raised eyebrow, and Cordelia finished, "_And_ you get appreciation." She grinned, wickedly, "Soon, we'll work up to you enjoying the Full Shopping Experience, a little at a time."

"Never!" Xander recoiled, then eyed his girlfriend's lips speculatively. "Well... maybe never." Hoisting Cordelia's sacks by the handles, he raised an eyebrow at Faith's.

"Nuh uh, Boytoy. I've got it," Faith snagged her store bag and smirked at him. "Maybe if you're _real_ lucky, you'll get to see it when I'm shaking it at the club some night."

"I already told her it's for dancing only - no monster guts allowed," Cordelia informed him. She slipped her hand through the arm holding the bags, and Xander offered his other arm to Faith.

"I'm thinking I already got more lucky than one teenage male should be able to survive," Xander leaned over to nuzzle Cordelia's cheek, leering.

"Wow. He's trainable, C."

"Of course," Cordelia stated. "For a dork, anyway."


	6. Chapter 5: We Planned It That Way

**Chapter 5: We Planned It That Way, Really -**

**Sunday August 2, 1998; Near the Bronze, Oz's van, shortly after dark.**

"Your axe, and crossbow," Oz said, handing the items out to Faith. She checked them over, then nodded.

"Gracias," Faith replied. She leaned the crossbow against the side of the van as Oz handed out gear to the others. Stashing the axe in the smaller pack she'd picked up during the mall trip, she drew a double edged, heavy, eighteen inch bladed dagger from under her jacket and checked it over before re-sheathing it.

"Thots norra knoif," Xander remarked in an atrocious Crocodile Dundee voice, "That's a freaking sword."

"It's a knife, trust me," Faith smirked. "Swords are longer."

"I'll take your word for it," Xander said. He had his small axe, and one of the air-crossbows, as well as a couple of stakes tucked into various pockets.

Faith looked around at the others, and nodded when she saw that all of them had some decent mix of weapons, including stakes and the holy-water paintball pistols. She figured that with her handling the heavy lifting, they _should_ be able to deal with whateverthehell that demon was that was doing the Blood Eagle thing if they ran across it. And regular vamps shouldn't be too large an issue unless there were _lots_ of them.

"Looking good," she said. "Aside from the new gear, how are you guys doing for regular weapons?"

Cordelia and Willow shrugged. Xander said, "Pretty good assortment. Giles keeps most of them at the library, and Buffy the rest at her house, but we have a bunch stashed away."

"Chest under the bed in the van," Oz supplied, inclining his head toward the van's compartment.

"Including the sword from Acathla." Xander said.

Willow's eyes widened, "You went back for it?"

He shrugged uncomfortably, "Someone had to see if Buffy was... there. And I didn't see any point in leaving a perfectly good Blessed sword lying around."

To Faith's inquiring look, Cordelia explained: "Big stone demon thingy Angelus was going to suck the world into Hell through. Had this blessed sword in it some knight used to kill it the first time."

"Remove sword, open Hellsucker," Xander finished. "Buffy closed it with this other blessed sword Kendra brought. We think."

"We think?" Faith asked.

"World's still here," Oz stated.

"Right," Faith nodded slowly. "Ok... looks like we're set if we run into this demon thing." She looked at Cordelia, "You know how to handle that axe?"

Cordelia shrugged, "Sharp end goes in the bad guys." She grinned, then shook her head, "Not really, but I get by."

"Cool. We can work on that," Faith grinned back at her. "How you guys want to do this?"

"You're asking us?" Willow looked surprised.

"Well, yeah," Faith frowned. "Why not? You guys know the town and the demon haunts here." She made a mental note to ask Cordy about that reaction, sometime.

"Well," Xander said, "There's always the old stand by of wandering around on foot until we see something. Or, we could use Oz's van to drive from spot to spot with the windows open listening for screams."

"Then get out and patrol on foot before moving to the next area," Oz finished.

Cordelia nodded, and added, "Vamps, we usually go cemetery to cemetery. Demons, we usually have a better idea where they are before going after them." She shrugged.

"But this time we don't," Faith said. "Right. I like the van thing - can cover more ground that way. Start with the area around the Bronze, since we're here."

"Works," Oz said. He gave Faith a curious look, and seemed like he was about to say something, then hesitated.

"What?" Faith asked.

"I know you kill vampires and demons, and hey - why not?" Oz said, and added, "But how do you feel about werewolves?"

"Huh?" Faith shrugged. "Don't feel about 'em either way, I guess. Why?"

"BecauseOzisawerewolf - " Willow supplied, all at once. She watched Faith nervously for her reaction.

"Ah. O-kayyy... " Faith stared at both of them, "How'd that happen?"

"Well... it's kind of a long story?" Willow said.

"Got bit," Oz stated.

"Or maybe not _that_ long," Willow finished.

"Oh for... " Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Oz is a _safe_ werewolf. He locks himself up during the full moons so he won't eat anyone or ruin any carpets."

"Ah. So he's housebroken, basically," Faith snickered. She shrugged, "Ok. Long as you don't go sniffing my crotch or trying to hump my leg, we're five-by-five, guy."

Xander choked, then brayed laughter. "Sorry," he waved an apology at Oz. "The mental image just got me."

Oz nodded, "Has a surreality thing going for it."

"That's for sure," Faith shook her head, hiding a grin. These people were just _too_ strange. "Ok, let's motorvate."

**...**

_**Elsewhere in Sunnydale, a few hours later.**_

It _was_ as big as the bloody foot prints had suggested. Or bigger. Seven or eight feet tall, it had a flat, slit nose, long fingered hands with longer claws, flat teeth, a shock of mangy orange-ish hair in tufts, and yellow skin.

They found it bent hunched over a body it was in the process of dismembering into a Blood Eagle when they followed the shrill scream into the alley near the apartments behind Ralph's Groceries. Faith skidded to a stop to take aim with her crossbow upon seeing it as the others halted spread out around her.

"Whoa, momma!" Xander said. "Ugly momma. BIG ugly momma." The creature straightened from over the body, blood dripping off of its claws and it snarled, glaring at them.

Faith's crossbow twanged at the same time Oz's air-rifle bow went off. Her bolt embedded in one of its shoulders without seeming to do more than irritate it. Oz's bolt didn't seem to have much more effect. The monster lunged forward, bellowing, and Faith backpedaled as she re-cocked and reloaded the crossbow.

Someone else fired, nailing it in the stomach and it lurched, howling.

Faith brought her crossbow up again and put her second bolt into its throat with little more effect than turning the howl into a gurgle. She dropped the crossbow and unslung her pack to take out her axe, drawing her long knife in her other hand.

Things broke apart quickly after that.

The creature shambled forward, picking up speed as it went. Cordelia shot it, and it slapped her to one side almost negligently as it went by. She hit the alley wall and slid down it, moaning. Faith's vision went red, briefly, seeing Cordelia injured. She snarled and leapt in to meet it headlong, bringing the long dagger in from up low in a gutting stroke, and her axe across at neck level. The knife struck home, slicing, and a foul stench came out with it. The axe missed the neck and bit into the demon's shoulder at an angle. It brought an arm across and backhanded Faith across the jaw and upper chest, sending her crashing to the concrete.

A massive set of claws gouged sparks from the alley floor as Faith rolled sideways, coming up with the axe biting deep - but not deeply enough - into the creature's side. It spun towards the blow, claws reaching for her. She had a vague impression of seeing Xander hacking at it from behind with his smaller axe.

Clawed hands grabbed her, and then she was spun and it slammed Faith full length into the opposite side of the alley from where Cordelia'd hit. She slid down the concrete wall, blackness closing in at the edges of her vision and the creature moved in with a gurgling snarl to to finish her as Xander skipped back towards his fallen air-bow.

Snatching up the air-rifle, Xander's bolt nailed it in the head just outside the eye socket, and it reared back, clasping both clawed hands to its face. Oz's next shot hit it in the side of the head and it gave out a gurgling roar, then turned and barreled through him and Willow out of the alley.

Elapsed time from Faith's first shot was less than fifteen seconds...

Faith pushed herself to her feet using the wall for a brace, then the world spun and she felt her legs turn to taffy under her. Xander's hand gripping her under the armpit barely kept her from pitching face forward. She somewhat vaguely heard Cordelia's voice asking if she was ok, and saw two of the cheerleader when she tried to focus on her.

"I'm gonna vote we go with explosives for our next trick," Oz said.

"Whoa," Faith took a deep breath, then another, and finally managed to stabilize her vision down to just _one_ Cordelia. She gripped Xander's forearm and pushed herself to her feet and held there until her legs stopped wobbling, finally.

"Whoa," she said again. "Wha hoppen?"

"We got trashed," Cordelia said, matter of factly.

"I'll say," Xander agreed. "Are you gonna be all right?" He reached around to check the back of Faith's head gently.

"Yeah," Faith nodded carefully, then regretted it. She looked at Cordelia, "You?"

"I'm fine," Cordelia said. "Just bruises. But this outfit is _ruined_. Eugh!" Cordelia fished a small penlight out of her handbag, and shined it in one of Faith's eyes.

"Hey!" Faith tried to bat it away.

"Oh, hold still, you big baby," Cordelia evaded her hands. "I need to check your pupils for concussion." She finished and said, "They're ok."

Xander nodded, "No mushy spots on the head, either. I think you'll live." He gave both of them a lopsided grin.

Faith nodded again, this time without feeling like her skull was going to split open. "Everyone else? Willow? Oz?"

Oz and Willow nodded, Willow saying, "Wow."

Oz added, "But I think the other guy's toast." He gestured to the body and the spreading pool of blood.

"Great."

**...**

_**Monday August 3, 1998; Sunnydale High School library, mid-afternoon.**_

Even considering that they'd lost another victim, and gotten trashed in process, Faith was in surprisingly - to her - good spirits as she crossed the small courtyard to the back door of the library.

A month ago she'd been fleeing Boston one jump ahead of Kakistos and Trick, still seeing her Watcher torn apart before her eyes and not knowing if there was really anything at the end of the road she was on. Now, she had a reasonable - albeit a fleabag - place to stay, enough money to get by on, and a possible chance at a new start. Not only that, she was starting to think that she might accidentally have found something resembling a friend in the snarky Sunnydale cheerleader. A friend, and possibly a kindred spirit... in a weird sort of 'completely from opposite worlds' way, but someone surprisingly like herself despite the differences.

Faith had been alone, lonely, and bone deep in pain for so long that she no longer recognized the feeling for what it was. Like an old jacket so well worn it was like a second skin, it no longer registered on her. She just knew that in the unexpectedly honest glimpses she'd caught of the real Cordelia Chase, she was seeing a face a lot like hers behind the socialite's masks.

Potential allies, possible friends, and a possibility of a connection with, maybe, tentatively, a partner. Faith was discovering she kind of liked the idea. She'd have been amazed to realize just how deeply there was a part of herself that _ached_ for something like that, if she even recognized that part upon seeing it.

She had no illusions that it would last long before it all came crashing in again, but she intended to ride it for all it was worth _until_ that happened, if/when it did.

Part way down the upper level stairs, she realized the library was empty except for the light in the open Librarian's office. If she hadn't thought she could hear faint rustling sounds from the office, she'd have shrugged, turned around, and gone elsewhere. As it were, she paused and called out, "Knock, knock. Anyone here?" before continuing down.

After a few moments, Rupert Giles stuck his head out through the door, and lowered his glasses to peer up at her over the rims. He gave a slight smile and said, "Why, hello, Faith."

"Hey. Where's the crew?" Faith trotted across to the counter and hopped up on it, swinging her legs over to sit in the edge facing him.

"Well, let me think," Giles paused. "I suspect that Xander is at work at that contracting supply place of his summer employment. I quite don't know about Cordelia and the others, I'm afraid." He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. "Were you expecting to meet them here today?"

"Naw. Just kinda figured," Faith shrugged. "This is where I usually see them."

"Ah." Giles nodded. "Well, I'm certain they'll be along eventually, if you'd care t-t-to, err... hang out, as it were." He removed his glasses and polished the spotless lenses, a nervous tick she'd come to recognize. "It will give me a chance to speak with you for a bit, if you don't mind."

"Cool. Sure," Faith grinned at him. "Wanted to fill you in, anyway."

"Really?" Giles blinked.

"Well, yeah," Faith frowned. She aimed her thumb at herself, "Slay-er." She pointed to him, "Watch-er. I fill Watch-er in on things Slay-er fights." Giving him a serious look that was completely ruined by the corners of her lips trying to curl into a grin, she said, "Isn't that how it's supposed to work?"

Giles gave a startled bark of laughter, shooting her a rueful glance, "Well, yes. Quite." He paused, "Apologies, Faith. I guess that I'm so used to having to drag out details of Buffy's patrol encounters from her that I'd forgotten how the routine _was_ designed."

"No worries, Giles." Faith let the grin twitch itself out all the way. "We'll get you back on that horse before you know it."

"Yes, of course," Giles laughed. "Please, come into my office and have a seat. You can fill me in on what's occurred while I was away."

A short time later, Faith was ensconced in one of the office chairs with a cup of coffee giving Giles an animated and only slightly exaggerated account of the gang's encounter and battle with the yellowish demon. She ended with, "That's mostly it. As long as you take into account that pretty much of the fight was really a blur because it happened so fast."

"Fascinating," Giles nodded, leaning back. "And no major injuries, except to the demon's victim, of course."

"Naw," Faith shrugged, covering a slight wince. "Bruises, mostly. I cracked my head a bit, but not bad. Cordy got a bit banged up, but nothing major."

"Would you mind describing the demon again?"

"Sure." Faith gave as complete a description of the beast as possible, then raised an eyebrow. "The others might be able to remember things I'm not. It ring any bells?"

"Not off the top of my head, no," Giles stated. He took off his glasses and set them carefully on his desk, looking tired but slightly enthused. "I'll have to go through the various demonaries searching it out, I fear."

"Ah. Cool," Faith shrugged. "So... " she trailed off, then resumed, "Did you, umm, get in touch with the Council?"

"Ah, no, I'm afraid," Giles pinched the bridge of his nose briefly, then gave her a frank look. "I became distracted by yours and the other's accounts of the body you'd found when we were last here, just before I left, that I quite forgot."

"Oh. Ok," Faith shrugged again. "No big. No hurry on my account, either."

"Indeed," Giles hid a slight smile. "I have gathered that impression." He replaced his glasses, and studied her for a few moments. "In the meantime, while I am, err, dithering on that, I would like to meet with you here at some point within the next day or so to test you to see where your abilities are, if you would."

"Ok. I'm so looking forward to that," Faith frowned.

"It's more a means for me to ascertain exactly where your training is in reference to weapon and combat abilities, martial arts, and demonology and mystical knowledge," Giles reassured her, "So that I may begin to design a training curriculum to further your continued training. If I am to act as your interim Watcher, even unofficially, we'll need this."

"Huh?"

Giles frowned, and began searching for a way to rephrase that better.

Faith grinned at him and waved it off, "Just messin' with you, Giles. I understand English even the way you Brits talk it."

"Ahem," Giles attempted to glare at her, but a slight smile ruined his efforts. "I'll have you know that 'we Brits' invented English, young lady. And we speak it perfectly well."

"Right. Ok, cool," Faith nodded, a slight grin breaking out on her lips. "Tests I'm not big on. But I'm all about the training and shit."

"Quite." Giles restrained the impulse to smile at her phrasing. "I must say, it surprises me to find myself quite looking forward to working with you."

Faith stared at him, became aware that her mouth was slightly open, and shut it with a click. "Really?"

"Why yes," Giles frowned, caught off guard by her surprise. "I may not be able to devote my full time to working with you, however, it will be rather enjoyable to work with someone who seems to look forward to training." He frowned, "Buffy so often seemed to consider training an imposition on her normal life. Fortunately, her natural talents carried her through quite well." Giles paused, "Not to disparage her abilities, but it might be pleasant to work with a slayer who _enjoys_ training."

"Hey, bring it on," Faith grinned. "That was the best part of working with the Prof and Sensei Kanno: the weapon training and martial arts work."

"Well, do try to remember that I'm not nearly as skilled nor as resilient as the legendary Shigero Kanno," Giles hid a small grin, "But I'll endeavor to do my best as my time allows."

"Wicked," Faith nodded. "I'll try not to break you too hard."

"I'm certain I'll thank you for that," Giles remarked. "Should I gather that you seem to be finding your place here with the others?"

Faith frowned, "You mean: Xander, Cordy and the others?" At his nod, she shrugged, "Sure. They've been cool, so far."

"Excellent."

"I'm kinda... " Faith looked uncertain. "Kinda surprised that you let Buffy have a group of people all knowing she was the slayer and working with her and all that. I mean, except with a couple of people that had to be in on something specific, Diana was all with the secrecy and the Slayer fights alone except with her Watcher and all." She held her hands up, palms out, "Not that it's not cool to have partners and all, but... "

"Yes, I quite know what you mean," Giles said. He removed his glasses again, then replaced them. "I began in the traditional Council mode myself, and soon discovered that I had to throw out the book with Buffy Summers. I don't believe that Buffy let any of the others discover about the supernatural and her role in it intentionally, however, first Xander Harris, then Willow, and then Cordelia and Oz became drawn into her orbit." He paused, looking away from a moment. "Usually by way of an encounter with vampires or demonic entities that caused them to take up the fight on their own, for their own reasons."

"Yeah, can see that," Faith said.

"Well, be that as it may, as time went by, they've all proven themselves to be far more formidable assets than inconvenience over time." Giles' mouth twitched slightly in what might have been humor. "Even Cordelia, as trying as she can be."

"Well, yeah," Faith said. "I mean, Buffy probably wouldn't have lived out her first year if not for them, according to the Prof." Giles winced slightly at that, and Faith moved on, "But... doesn't it bug you that they could get killed doing this?"

"Every single moment that they're out there, I'm afraid." Giles gave her a serious look, and she nodded. He asked, gently, "Does it worry you?"

"Well," Faith shrugged and stood, sticking her hands in her back pockets. "Yeah, but they were hunting vamps with nothing but guts and good intentions when I met them. Kinda hard to say 'don't do that' after that."

"I know. And I believe that with my... distraction over my missing slayer, Sunnydale would be in far worse shape this summer without their efforts." Giles clasped his hands over his upraised knee and looked at her. "I have a theory that would no doubt cause me to be extremely unpopular were I to voice it in Council or at the academy, if you'd be interested in hearing it."

"Shoot."

"I believe that a major reason for Buffy Summers' success to date isn't because of her abilities - which are phenomenal, don't get me wrong - but owe as much to her connections with the world she's defending. Her friends, her support group, and her family give her a degree of strength that other slayers may lack: they not only help her fight, but they keep her in touch with what she's fighting for, and with _why_ she's fighting."

Faith nodded.

"I have come to suspect that it is a _lack_ of those... human connections and reminders of what they're defending that leads to so many slayers having such short, brutal careers: they simply reach a point where they have nothing left to fight for, nor to draw upon, and they _lose_."

Faith stared at him, venturing finally, "Yeah, I could see that you wouldn't get many points at the annual Watcher's Retreat with that one."

Giles laughed, "Quite. Or I'm sure it would if I were ever to be invited to the Retreat."

"Naw, I've read it's way boring. You wouldn't fit in." Faith said, smiling slightly.

"Thank you for the, err, left handed compliment," Giles said. "I think." Faith grinned and nodded. Giles removed his glasses and gave her a serious look, straightening. "Be that as it may, it is something to consider. You could do much worse for friends and, err, hunting partners, than this rather unorthodox group of young people. While they haven't been the _only_ contributing factor, they _have_ helped considerably to keep Buffy Summers successful - and alive."

"Right. I'll think on it," Faith said. "I'm gonna let you get to your researching and your cataloging or whatever while I go find something to eat. I'll swing back by later."

"Very well, Faith," Giles said. "I'll endeavor to see if I can identify your demon for you and the others."


	7. Chapter 6: That Hellmouthy Effect

**Chapter 6: That Hellmouthy Effect -**

_**Monday August 3, 1998; Sunnydale, afternoon.**_

While the discussion with Giles had been interesting - and unexpected to her - not finding Cordelia and the others at the library had left Faith at loose ends for the immediate afternoon. Hitting the street near the high school, she looked around, considering what to do to kill some time. It wouldn't have bothered her to hang out at the library until someone showed up, possibly grabbing a book to kill time with, but the sudden connection she'd started making with the Watcher had honestly kind of freaked her out a bit.

His unexpectedly frank statements, both on looking forward to working with her and on his views on the Watcher, Slayer, and Scooby (Faith hated that name) dynamic had hit her on levels she wasn't really aware of. All she knew was that something had grabbed her deep where she lived with an almost physical clench. She had to get clear for awhile, try to clear the roil of uncomfortable emotions and thoughts out of her head and stomach.

Unfortunately, that left her with, time, nothing to do, and no clear plans.

One thing she _was_ certain of: Rupert Giles and Buffy's little gang of 'Scoobies' couldn't _possibly_ be for real. Cordelia maybe - when she let down her guard, the cheerleader was almost _too_ real to be comfortable with - but the rest? No way.

Nothing in Faith's life had prepared her for the possibility that they might be exactly what they seemed, and she couldn't accept it without looking for the hidden catch.

Wandering aimlessly for a bit, she snagged a couple of 0.99 cheeseburgers from Burger-Mart and a drink from a convenience store, and wandered along munching on them. After awhile, she found herself headed down a street that she recognized as leading to the warehouse district and to Willy's. As good a direction as any and it gave her an idea for a decent way to kill some time.

Willy's was not exactly crowded on a Monday afternoon when she pushed through the door, she noticed. The handful of various demon types nursing beverages at the bar or at tables looked to be more scared to death of her than potential threats.

Willy looked up from rearranging his bottles with a mixed expression of mild panic and resignation. He sighed heavily, threw a bar towel over his shoulder, and came to the bar as she came up.

"Hey Slayer," he said. "What can I do you for?"

"Wanted to see if you've come up with anything since the other night, Willy," Faith leaned against the bar.

He shook his head, "Heard there was another killing. But, naw. Nothing yet." His eyes widened, "Honest - you don't have to break the bar up. Or me."

"Relax, weasel," Faith grinned. "I'm peaceable. For now. Got a description that I thought might help your memory problems."

Willy threw a nervous look around the bar, and motioned her forward. "Fine. Let's head to the back and talk." He pointed to the door behind the bar and headed that way.

A bit wary, Faith came around the bar and followed him back. "What, don't want the regulars to know you're snitching?"

"They already know," Willy made a dismissive gesture. "No need to rub their noses in it though, right?" He leaned against some shelves with his arms crossed, "Ok, Slayer, whatcha got?"

Faith described the demon, ending with, "And whatever this is, it's strong. Can soak up axe blows and toss a slayer around."

"Huh." Willy shook his head, "Still nothing. Been keeping my ears open, but... " When Faith's eyes narrowed, he held his palms up nervously. "Honest. Nothing, zip, nadda. Doesn't even sound like anything I've heard of going through this town."

"Huh." Faith studied him carefully, "But you'll tell me if it does?"

"Sure, kid." Willy's imitated a bobblehead for a moment. "No probs." He decided she probably wasn't going to thrash him around, and relaxed slightly. "So, you're the new slayer, huh?"

"What of it?"

"Nothing!" Willy did his best to look harmless, "You know, you're a lot prettier than the previous one. I mean, she had this exotic thing going, don't get me wrong - way hot. But... "

"This going somewhere?" Faith asked him in a bored tone.

"Umm, no so as you could see it," he admitted.

"Kinda surprised Buffy let this kinda place operate in her town," Faith said, studying Willy idly. "Demon hangout and all."

"Hey, it's not like that, Slayer." Willy said. "Ok, so it is like that, but hey. I kinda serve a useful function, when you think about it."

"Do tell," Faith said.

"Well, yeah," Willy straightened, a bit indignant. "Most of my customers here are either demons that can pass, Brachen, Ano-movics, whatever, who come in to relax with other demons, or they're harmless types who want to hang out. Drink their yak bile, go work, watch sports, whatever. We get some rough types, because hey - dive, y'know? But if they get too out of hand outside here, I try to nudge the Slayer towards them and everyone's happy."

"Vamps aren't harmless."

"Yeah, but," Willy shrugged. "Look, kid. I buy blood from hospitals and blood banks at just above cost - past it's sell by date and they're going to dispose of it anyway. And beef, pig, and horse blood from the slaughterhouse at wholesale for the vamps that like variety or are off humans. If they're eating in here, they're not out there drinking humans, right?"

"Guess so," Faith finished her study of him, and straightened, causing Willy to cringe slightly. "Ok, so here's the deal. I'm not going to shut you down just yet. You hear anything I think might be interesting or useful, you let me know, and if I got it, I'll slide you what I think its worth or what I can afford. I'll rough you up on occasion for show so your customers don't get the wrong idea."

Willy sighed, "Ok. Sounds good. How big a cut here we talking you wanting?"

Faith's fist slammed into the wall next to his head and he cringed away, "What, you think I'm running a protection racket here?"

"Uh, no?" Willy ventured.

"Good answer," Faith smirked at him. "Don't know much about this Slayer gig, but I'm thinking taking payoffs from demons ain't in the manual. We do it like I said. Info pans out, I'll slide you what I can. Hold out on me or screw me over, and I'll fuck you up. Not gonna shake you down, though."

"Ok, ok. Geeze," Willy shrugged. "Sorry, all right? But you gotta see how it looked like from my end."

"Right. Keep an ear open for that demon, and anyone that might have summoned him," Faith said. "And, if you hear of any vamp nests and where they're located, I'll want that, too. That'll be worth a cut for _you_ if they have anything worthwhile." She spun on her heel and stalked out.

"Ok, so she's a _lot_ different from the other slayers," Willy muttered.

**...**

_**From the personal Journals of Rupert Giles, Watcher:**_

_There is still as of yet no word on the possible whereabouts of my slayer, Buffy Summers. While not ostensibly a searching mission for her, I did manage to meet with an old contact of mine whilst I was in San Diego who was able to perform a mystical location ritual for me, and who promised to check among her contacts in the United States mystical community._

_While the ritual did pinpoint a faint trace of Slayer energies in Sunnydale, not unexpectedly, as well as that of a couple of possible potential slayers in the greater California area - something that __was__ unexpected - it revealed no traces of a second active slayer within the reach of the spell._

_I fear that assuming that Buffy Summers remains alive, an assumption I __must__ maintain, if only for my own sanity and that of Mrs. Summers, she can only be somehow mystically warded against scrying and location. Else, she is out of the range of the ritual utilized. It is possible, albeit unlikely in my opinion, that Buffy took steps to ward herself against location by myself and/or the Council. If that is the case, I can only hope that once she has had time to work through the traumas and issues involved with the Angelus affair, she will return on her own._

_It is impossible for me to refrain from recriminations against myself in this matter. Shortly after it became apparent that Angelus not only had become divested of his soul, but that my Slayer was unable to bring herself to dealing with the matter, I should well have taken matters into my own hands. What changes might have taken place in the ensuing months had I requested a Council Hunter Team to deal with Angelus rather than leaving it upon the already overburdened shoulders of an emotionally stricken teen aged girl? Or if I had requested of Samuel Zabuto that he join me here, bringing Kendra with him for an earlier and more permanent stay? How many of those murdered during Angelus' twisted campaign might yet survive if I had?_

_I can only find in my defense my trepidation over what other steps a Council Hunter Team might have taken, and the possibility of their posing a perhaps greater threat to my Slayer and her cohorts as they might to Angelus. It is a thin comfort when the wolves of 'if only' gnaw at me in the wee hours of the morning._

_I know in my saner moments that these recriminations are entirely the product of hindsight, which is said to be twenty-twenty for good reason, and yet I am unable to put them aside and accept that the bulk of the culpability for the deaths of Jenny Calendar, Kendra, and many others rest more upon my soul than upon the shoulders of Buffy Summers._

_Enough of that. It is ground that I have covered before, here, and that I shall no doubt cover again. It shall no doubt prove as useless a mental endeavor in the future as it has in the past: what is done, is done and cannot be recalled._

_Moving on to present matters, as I sit at my desk here, I can look through my office doorway and view the children as they do their very best to assume the burdens of research into the newest menace that the Hellmouth has thrown at them._

_The new Slayer, Faith, is currently seated with her head bent over a demon compendium and occasionally exchanging what I can only assume are witticisms with Cordelia Chase and young Master Harris. Faith is quite astonishing to me, in many ways._

_Not having volunteered her age to me, and with my not having access to her records, I can only assume that she is young, as are most Slayers. Possibly somewhere between her fifteenth and eighteenth year - most slayers are called at sixteen, however that is hardly without exception. I do know from her mannerisms that she is younger than the hardness in her eyes and adulthood in her carriage would often suggest._

_Faith is a curious, to me, mixture of bravado and surprising vulnerability, coupled with what I sense to be an innate toughness that is fascinating to me._

_Of course, from the few glimpses that she has given to me of her past, that toughness would __have__ to be there, else she would not have survived to be here. Her Watcher apparently slain before her eyes, herself captured by a dangerous vampire, and then her escape followed by her no doubt epic - and successful - trek across a continent to this place. All of those speak of a truly formidable and resourceful young woman. Her mannerisms, and the glimpses of deeply hidden self-doubt and fear in her eyes speak to me of a young woman who has no idea just how remarkable that resourcefulness and evident toughness and strength of will truly is._

_On short observation, Faith is wary, often prickly, occasionally hostile, and I believe that she hides a great deal of herself behind masks of sarcastic and/or rough humour to shield herself. Watching her in moments when she believes herself unobserved, she is constantly watchful and weighing of everything and everyone about her. There seems to be a part of her that longs for connections with the world about her, but she appears to shield herself from those very connections assiduously with mannerisms I fear she may not even be aware of._

_I can only speculate upon the things that might have ingrained that caution, and those defenses, in one so young. I do know that no one arrives at that place without having been wounded deeply from early on, until wariness and distancing become second nature._

_I maintain, and do believe, that Buffy Summers is a remarkable slayer. It is my belief, one that unfortunately isn't completely shared by my colleagues, that Buffy has the potential to be a truly great slayer: one that is only rarely seen in a century or more._

_Having spoken with and observed Faith, and having been appraised of some of the circumstances surrounding her flight from Boston, it is my view that she __also__ may prove to be one of the true greats of her century. Possibly another of the greatest slayers, the type who's name becomes legend in the annals of the Watchers. I really am quite looking forward to attempting to train and work with her._

_I find myself humbled at the thought that I may have been blessed to know not one, but two of the most remarkable creatures it has ever been my pleasure to encounter. _

_And, I fear greatly that I may prove to not be up to this challenge, and this precious gift. I have not, after all, done such an excellent job at supporting and guiding Buffy Summers that I can feel sanguine about my ability to teach and help yet another challenging, difficult, and remarkable young woman._

_Or, indeed, any of these children. I am not a paternal man, I know this. I have little experience with children, and often small liking for them. The small group that have attached themselves to first Buffy, and now Faith, are among the very worst of the breed: not children, but __teenagers__ of all things - young men and women on the cusp of growing into adulthood._

_Quite frankly, they terrify me. I find both their enthusiasm and their shining bravery to be intimidating. More intimidating is the knowledge that I am quite not up to the task of acting as any kind of mentor, or father figure, as so many of them seem to require: I was trained as a Watcher, not as a paternal substitute. I have never wished to have children nor to be a parent._

_This is not the first time that I have observed that the training of Watchers is __sadly__ out of step with the realities of the battlefield into which we are thrust to flounder about._

_I watch them interacting with Faith, and listen in on snatches of their conversation over their encounter with that demon last night, and find myself continually forced to re-evaluate the dynamics of this little group. Faith's tentative and yet obviously (to me) growing friendship with Cordelia Chase astonishes me. I couldn't possibly imagine two more dissimilar young women. I can see that I must yet again readjust my thinking to the reality that there may well be more to Miss Chase than I had believed from her apparently shallow and self-centered surface demeanors. I am already aware that there are depths to Faith that I cannot imagine._

_I often wonder if I truly know who any of these children really are._

_On the morrow, I must make contact with the Watcher's Council and that utter prat Quentin Travers to discuss Faith's arrival and her circumstances. I am very much __not__ looking forward to it. That pillock, Travers, embodies all that to me is the worst of what parts of the Council has grown into over the late nineteenth and twentieth century. He sees the Slayer as a weapon, rather than as the remarkable young __woman __within__ the weapon._

_I have come to see that it is the young woman who __makes__ the Slayer what she is, rather than a... component of a potentially discardable and easily replaceable device. She for whom the Council exists, rather than the converse. It is a possibly irreconcilable difference in our perspectives._

_However, I cannot lapse too long in this duty. My charge requires the support of the Council for support and sustenance, and in resources to help her fight - and those can only be gained as of this time via Travers and his ilk. I cannot, indeed __will__ not, fail yet another charge._

_May the Gods help us all and deliver us from pillocks._

_- Rupert Giles, Watcher; In this Year of Our Lord 1998, August the 3rd._

**...**

_**Sunnydale High School library, early evening.**_

"Hey Giles, what's up?" Faith looked up from the tome she was thumbing through in a rather desultory fashion, glad for the distraction. In her opinion, once you get past the racy illustrations of naked demons, there wasn't much more boring than page after page of monster descriptions. Especially not when they all seemed to be written in life sucking British academese.

"I believe I may have located something similar to what you and the others described," Giles responded. He smiled as heads came up all over the library from their various locations, research dulled eyes sparkling with interest - and probably relief.

"Well, _finally_," Cordelia said, closing her book with a slight shudder. "I was going to undergo brain melt if I had to look at yet another grainy drawing of the Crawling Drooler."

"I am relieved that I may be able to spare you from that misfortune, Cordelia," Giles said. He opened the demonary at the place his finger was marking and set it down on the table.

"You should be," Cordelia favored him with one of those brilliant smiles she seemed to have an endless supply of, but dole out sparingly at best - at least the sincere ones. "ow!"

Judging from Faith's movement and smirk, that must have resulted from an under table kick at the cheerleader. "Be grateful, Cordy. Man's just trying to save you from manicure damage."

"Bitch," Cordelia said, winking to take at least some of the sting out. Faith smirked again as she leaned forward, along with Xander, to look at the illustration.

"Hrrm. Close, but no cigar maybe?" Faith frowned. "Whatta you think, Xan?"

Xander and Cordelia scrutinized the page, Xander nodding finally. "Real close. But not quite."

"Hrrm?" Giles lowered his glasses slightly to peer at them over the tops. "Drat. I had been so sure. Are you certain?"

Willow came over from her terminal to pull the book over so she and Oz could examine it while Xander, Faith, and Cordelia thought about it for a moment.

"Yeah, but real close," Cordelia nodded. "The one we fought had, like, flat teeth, not pointed fangs. And it had like, wild tufts of long orange hair on its head - this one's bald."

"Other than that, real close." Faith stated.

"Hmm." Giles straightened as Willow and Oz nodded, confirming Cordelia's corrections. "Xander? Could you please go to the stack of new books in my office, and retrieve for me the copy of Barlow's Guide to the Extraplanar, Volume Two?"

"Sure thing," Xander left the table and went around the counter to disappear into Giles office. he came back out several minutes later with a thick volume in one hand.

"Excellent, yes. Thank you," Giles smiled at the boy and opened the book, quickly turning pages until he found the section he wanted. "Perhaps more like this?"

"Whoa - color illustrations, yet. Wicked," Faith glanced at the page, and nodded. "Yeah. 'Xactly like." Willow and Oz leaned over and confirmed her identification.

"Fascinating," Giles removed his glasses and began rubbing the lenses.

"What?!" Cordelia looked at him impatiently. "Share with the rest of the class?" She huffed, "_We_ were the ones only almost killed by it, you know. No hurry." Faith grinned at her and shook her head.

"Quite. I was merely pausing to marshal my thoughts, Miss Chase," Giles shot her a reproving look that slid off immediately. "It would appear to be a Durslar Beast - an extra-planar demonic entity that is possessed of great physical power and ferocity."

"Well, duh!" Cordelia rubbed her rear, wincing slightly, "We knew that. Except for the Drowsular part."

"Durslar," Giles corrected absently. "Fascinating because the Durslar are predominately brute killers - they're not known for performing blood rituals such as the Blood Eagle, nor really for tormenting their kills."

"More: 'Beat, rend, tear, kill, eat'?" Faith said.

"Quite," Giles nodded.

"So, someone summoned it and is sending it out and making it do the Blood Eagle thing?" Willow said. "Eeew."

"Yes, it would seem so," Giles said. He began, "Have you identi- " at the same moment Faith started to ask, "How do I k- " and stopped, motioning Faith to continue.

"How do I - we - kill it?" Faith finished.

"Other than the fact that it is very strong, has tough skin, and is formidable, there a-a-are no specific challenges to or requirements for killing a Durslar Beast that I am aware of," Giles said. "Decapitation would suffice."

"Cool," Faith said, nodding. "Can do that."

"Except for last night," Cordelia supplied, studying her nails. Faith scowled at her, folding her arms.

"Ahem," Willow cleared her throat, asking, "What were you going to ask me, Giles?"

Giles gave her a grateful look. "Ah... yes. Have you managed to use that device to identify the latest victim?"

"oh! Yeah," Willow jumped up and trotted back to her computer. She made a face, sitting back down, "A-a-and also found another victim. From later that night after we ran into it." Faith's scowl deepened even further.

Cordelia unexpectedly put a hand on Faith's forearm and said quietly, "We weren't exactly in any shape to go after it again. Not your fault." Xander caught the exchange, and raised a surprised eyebrow, but otherwise didn't remark on it.

Instead, Xander clasped Faith lightly on the shoulder saying, "Yeah. You were seeing three Cordy's, Cordy was limping and all banged up, and me and Oz were trampled." It didn't exactly clear Faith's scowl, but she nodded abruptly after a few moments.

Oblivious, Willow was saying, "All of the bodies were either students at Kent, or a former student in one case."

Faith looked up, and over at her. "So odds are someone going there conjured it," she said.

"Quite probably," Giles said, nodding. "Hrrmm... Willow, could you start err, searching for connections between the three victims and to others, now that you have several?"

"Already on it," Willow nodded.

"That's my Will," Xander grinned.

"Occurs to me that extra-planar demons are generally enraged at being summoned for human purposes," Giles mused.

Faith's eyes snapped around to him, "So maybe they pissed it off royally when they called it?"

"Oooh! And if they weren't careful -" Willow began...

"It could have broken loose and determined to make examples of the conjurer and the others in his or her circle, yes," Giles finished.

"Oh! I could, like, widen the search to include deaths connected to Kent where maybe the Blood Eagle thing didn't make the police or morgue files," Willow said. "Because sometimes private schools have enough influence to keep things covered up so as to not cause parents and alumni to freak."

"Very good idea, thank you, Willow," Giles said, getting a beaming smile from the hacker.

"Watcher's pet," Faith smirked, getting a scowl from Willow.

"Oh, and your observations as well, Faith," Giles added. "Most helpful in narrowing the culprit down."

"Watcher's pet," Xander smirked and nudged Faith with his elbow. She scowled and thumped him on the shoulder, but grinned and winked at Willow.

"Ok, so, like, if that's the case, once it tracks down the people who summoned it, it'll go back where it came from?" Cordelia frowned, "Sounds like a death by stupidity thing to me. No big loss."

"And ladies and gentlemen, we present to you the Darwin Award Nominees for 1998... " Xander began, getting a grin from Cordelia and an outraged look from Willow.

"Err, quite. A bit callous, but poetic," Giles coughed and removed his glasses and began polishing them, "However, there is no guarantee that once it is finished with its summoners, it will leave rather than continuing to wander about killing in a more prosaic fashion."

"So we still need to kill it," Faith stated. "No change."

"Err, yes," Giles said. He replaced his glasses and looked at them, "However, I believe that you should wait upon the results of Willow's endeavors and take a night away from this to, errr, recover a bit more before encountering it again. Perhaps taking time to review the last encounter and plan how best to deal with the creature."

"Well, this search _is_ going to take awhile," Willow said, a bit doubtfully. Faith scowled and started to object...

"Good. A night away from monster hunting won't hurt," Cordelia put in. "_I_ say we come back with more info and a plan."

"Quite," Giles nodded. He caught the rebellious glint in Faith's eye and interjected gently, "Faith, I am aware that you both dislike the idea that this thing may kill again, and perhaps wish a second try at it, however I would prefer that you come to it fully rested and prepared." He paused, "I would hate to see you injured from letting your sense of responsibility drive you to hasty actions."

It wasn't the words, but the note of weary caring in Giles' tone that shut Faith's mouth with a click. "Right," she said, scowling.

"_And_ it will give me some time to myself to work on your evaluation and training curriculum," he added. Faith's lips twitched slightly, threatening to break out of her scowl into a slight smile.

Cordelia gave Giles a speculative look, and a very slight, almost unnoticeable nod of approval. "So," she clapped her hands briskly. "Something summer vacation-like while Willow's search thing is running?"

"Grab some DVD's and pizza and go watch them?" Xander suggested. "Movie party at Cordy's place!"

"Ah! And why my place, Harris?" Cordelia asked.

"Well, Willow's folks will psychoanalyze us. Buffy's mom would probably like the company, but she had a art thing in Frisco to go to," Xander said. "We could go do it at mine, but -"

"Right," Cordelia cut across him. "As if." She sighed, "Get one _single_ drop of pizza sauce on the carpet, Harris, and you'll _wish_ that demon had eaten you last night."

"Yes'm." Xander quirked a half-grin. "Best floor eating manners, coming up."

"Want a ride, Faith?" Cordelia tossed out, gathering her purse and other items together.

"Huh?" Faith gave her a startled look. "You guys want me to come?"

"No, I just wanted to invite you so I could laugh cruelly and go _'psyche!'_ when we got to the car," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "You kill with us, you do books with us - you get dragged to the dweebo functions with us so I can watch you suffer instead of suffering alone."

"I think you should go for the 'cruel laughter and the _psyche_!' thing, Faith," Xander said. "This is frightening." He exchanged raised eyebrow looks with a slightly gaping Willow.

Cordelia slapped him on the back of the shoulder, "No, I'm saving that for you when we get to the car. It's more satisfying."

"Right," Faith nodded. "Movies at the Queen's palace." She hid a surprised grin by letting her hair fall forward as she followed Cordelia out.

Xander took his time gathering his things together so he could whisper to Oz and Willow, "Cordelia's being nice? It's like she's been replaced by an actual human being or something?"

Oz said, "Hellmouthy," with a slight eyebrow lift. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, "Willow and I'll go for the pizza run and meet you there." Xander nodded and dug some crumpled fives and a ten out of his pocket and handed them over before heading after Faith and Cordelia.

Giles watched them go, shaking his head slowly. He pulled off his glasses and chewed absently on the end of one frame arm. "Remarkable," he murmured, softly.


	8. Chapter 7: Unhelpful Encounters

**Chapter 7: Unhelpful Encounters -**

_**Tuesday August 4, 1998; Chase mansion, early AM.**_

Cordelia stood on the front entry patio with Faith and Xander watching a laughing Oz and Willow get into Oz's van, driving off soon after. Xander quirked a half grin at them, and then leaned forward to give his girlfriend a kiss. Faith stepped away and leaned on the patio rail to give them some privacy. Cordelia broke it off before it could get too intense, a bit surprised to see a quiet look of wonder in Xander's eyes rather than annoyance at her pulling back.

"What?" She said, frowning.

Xander shook his head. "Just thinking that this was kind of nice," he said.

"Only kind of?" Cordelia scoffed. "A born charmer, Harris." She slapped him lightly on the chest, and he captured her hand and brought it to his lips.

"I'm easy. More than 'kind of'," Xander gave her that lopsided grin. "Maybe even real nice."

"Hey! I can be nice. I just don't bother often," Cordelia grinned back at him. She threw a look over her shoulder at Faith and stepped back, "Ok, mush is done. You can stop pretending to study the lawn now."

"So who's pretending?" Faith smirked and straightened, sticking her hands in her back pockets. "Have you know, I'm all for the study of lawn care."

"And on the heels that insincere and oddly disturbing revelation, I think I'll be going," Xander said. He grabbed his book-pack and gave Cordelia another peck on the lips, and turned and headed down the driveway.

After watching him go for a few moments, Cordelia shook her head and turned to Faith. "Need a ride?"

Faith scowled and shook her head. "Naw. Can walk off that pizza overload." She looked away, and said, "Harris is right. This was kinda nice. Thanks."

"Don't expect it too often," Cordelia said, sharply. At Faith's glance, she shrugged and smiled slightly. "Don't want them to start thinking I'm not the Supreme Bitch all the time."

"Why?" Faith gave her an unreadable look.

"I just don't," Cordelia shrugged, and gave her unreadable look back with interest.

"Right," Faith nodded. She slung her pack to one shoulder and nodded. "I better make sure nothing eats Harris before he gets home. Wouldn't want anything to get in the way of all that dislike he doesn't have for you." Faith smirked, and headed off down the driveway.

"Hey!" Cordelia's voice floated after her, followed by a soft laugh.

Past the gates, Faith spotted Xander standing under a streetlight looking up at what few stars were visible. At her "Hey," he turned around, raising his eyebrows.

"Hey," Xander nodded back.

"Get lost?" Faith asked, her smirk firmly in place.

"Me? Never," Xander laughed. "Just not in a major hurry." He started off down the street, not looking to see what direction she walked off in, but slow enough to be an invitation if she wanted to take it that way. "Why, I know this town like the back of my... " He mimed walking into a lamp post and she laughed.

Faith fell into step along side him. "I'll trail along for awhile, Tiger. Make sure the goblins and ghoulies don't get you."

"Don't have to," he said. "I really have survived my whole life at night in Sucky-D without getting killed."

Faith shrugged and they walked for a miles or so in silence past where the wealthy neighborhood gave out and turned into regular suburbs, and then slightly seedier suburbs.

"I don't get you," Faith remarked.

"Huh?" Xander gave her a startled look. "What's not to get? Small town California high school kid, busy getting Californicated by the Hellmouth." He shrugged, "Not that complex."

Faith snorted. "Right."

After another block or so she said, "No. I mean all of you, but you in particular. Why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Don't give me that," Faith said. "This this. Fight monsters and stick your neck out to get it bitten off when you don't have to."

"Ah." Xander shook his head and walked for another block or so. "Who says I don't have to?"

"Huh?" Faith stopped in her tracks, a bit derailed by the question, then lengthened her stride to catch up. "I have to. I got drafted. You? You could walk away, pretend it doesn't happen, and go on with your life. Like everyone else." She snorted again, "Probably live longer."

Xander shrugged. "You don't have to either." Faith glared at him, and he continued, "I've been thinking a lot this summer. Buffy walked away from it. You could too."

Faith grabbed him by the arm and stopped him. "No. I couldn't."

Xander looked down at her hand, then met her eyes evenly, searching them for something, and gave her an infuriating version of that lopsided grin. "Right. I can't either." He pulled his arm out of her grasp and started walking again.

Faith gaped at him for a moment, wondering just what the hell he thought he saw with that look that made him so smug, and fell in beside him again. "You don't know me."

Xander nodded. "Not a bit, yet." Then she shook his head, "And, sure I do. You're just like me, and Willow, and Oz, and even Cordy. Whatever happened in Boston, you could have taken off and never looked back. Instead, you came here to what's probably the most screwed up Helltown on the planet and started slaying again."

"You don't know a damned thing, Harris." Faith's voice came out harsher and angrier than she wanted it to.

"Nope. Known that for a long time. Dweeb-boy, remember?" Xander gave her that infuriating lopsided grin again. "I don't know Jack."

Faith shook her head, suddenly infuriated. She pushed her hair back with both hands and stepped around in front of him. "What the hell do you people _want_ from me?!"

Xander stopped, his eyes widening slightly. He shrugged. "Not a damned thing, Faith. Just the same thing we want from each other - hang out, help us stay alive, and we help you live."

"What if I don't _want_ your help?" Faith leaned forward into his face, still yelling.

Xander stepped back just a bit. "Then you've got it anyway." He cocked his head slightly, "Why are you so mad at me?"

"Because... " Faith took a deep breath, realizing her hands were clenched into fists and her whole body was almost shaking. She stepped back, shaking her head, "Fuck if I know."

Xander nodded, slowly. "It's all right."

"No. It's not. You and the cheerleader almost got killed the other night trying to help me," Faith said, quietly. "How damned many times did you almost get killed trying to help Buffy?"

"You want a list?" Xander laughed, then choked it off when he saw the infuriated look start to come back into Faith's eyes again. He held out his hands in a peace gesture. "I can't count that high even with my shoes off."

Faith stared at him, and snickered in spite of herself. "Doesn't bother you?"

"Huh?" Xander's eyes got wider. "Scares me spit-less every time I think about it."

"Ok," Faith nodded, slowly. "So why, then? I'm really trying to understand here, but I'm kinda slow."

"Because it scares me more to lose people I care about, all right?" Xander leaned forward and yelled it, suddenly pissed off, himself. "If I can do something to stop it, I'm damned well going to, '_Chosen_ One' or not. You, Cordy, or Willow don't _get_ to die while I'm around."

"Whoa," Faith stepped back, holding her hands up, palms out. "Ok, now why are you so pissed off all of a sudden?"

"Umm... " Xander shook his head, looking a bit sheepish. "Look, not you, ok? I've just been watching friends of mine get killed here for years. Sometimes they get up after and kill other friends." He shrugged, "I don't want to look at your dead body and think I could have been faster or something. Or smarter. Or... "

"Or Cordelia's, or Red's," Faith nodded.

"Yeah." Xander's shoulders slumped and he smiled tiredly. "Scared the hell out of you the other night when Cordy hit that wall, huh?"

"Me? Naw," Faith smirked. "Just didn't want to have to tell the Watcher I got her killed."

"Right," Xander snorted. Faith thought she saw a flash of... disappointment? in his eyes. He nodded, "That's why you launched yourself into that thing like a maniac."

"Yup," Faith nodded. Xander stepped around her and started walking again, and she fell in next to him.

"Ok," he said after another half block. After another few blocks, they stopped at the driveway of a lit house in a decidedly lower side of the lower middle class. "Casa Harris, in all its glory," Xander gave her his half-grin again.

Faith nodded. Yelling, in two voices, came from the house, followed by a crash. Both of them winced. Faith saw a brief flash of anger in Harris' eyes, followed quickly by an equally brief flash of pain. Then his eyes went blank and the half grin came back.

"Ah. The loving parental units," Xander said, with a short laugh. He shook his head and said, "Later. Thanks for walking me back."

Faith reached out and punched him in the arm, lightly, and he turned back. Her eyebrows lifted, "People you care about, huh?"

Xander nodded, his eyes and face unreadable. Faith grinned, "Later, Tiger. And... no probs."

**...**

_**Tuesday August 4, 1998; Sunnydale Downtowner Motel, morning.**_

Faith woke up far earlier than her normal hours. She yawned and shook the sleep out of her head, stretching and then reaching under her bed to snag a warm soda from the case of cans she'd stashed there after moving in. Popping it open, she took a swig and looked around the room with distaste.

The place was, quiet honestly, a dump. Actually, to be real honest, that was being insulting to perfectly good dumps the world over - sty would fit it better. But... it was a cheap sty, and they rented rooms by the week (as well as by the hour) without looking too hard at a teenage girl wanting to rent or asking for ID. It'd do until she could afford better, and it'd help her cash stash stretch as far as possible until she worked out what to do for income.

She wasn't about to ask Cordelia, Giles, or any of the others for a place to crash or handouts. She also wasn't going to take day trips over to Santa Barbara to mug pimps and dealers - 'don't crap where you sleep' was ingrained into her street instincts, and Santa Barbara, at a half hour's drive, was far too close for some underworld thug to not track her back to Sunnydale.

Then again, once she applied some thought to it, she was pretty sure it wouldn't be hard for a slayer to come up with a legal - or at least only mildly gray - means of making a few bucks without having to resort to pole dancing. Not that she had any objections to dancing with her clothes off, humping a pole had proven to be a fast way of earning a few hundred in a weekend while coming across country. But here, that came too close to crapping where you live: it doesn't take gossip long to travel across any small town, and she doubted Sunnydale was any different.

Twelve ounces of warm caffeine in her and awake enough to care about moving, she grabbed another soda and headed into the shower to clean up. Fast shower. She'd already discovered that the water in this place ran cold after less than ten minutes.

While getting dressed, she came to a decision. Harris' words from last night had had more of an impact on her than she wanted to admit. So had Cordelia's unexpected gesture of inviting her along for a DvD-fest, and the easy going camaraderie with the others, even Willow. As much as she wanted to hate it, she was starting to kind of like having people at her back who didn't seem to mind having her around, no matter if some of them, like Willow, were wary of her. She didn't particularly want to see any of them get dead any more than Harris did.

The concept that she also wanted them to have reason to like her made her pause, pants pulled half way up, and she frowned. Yanking the jeans up the rest of the way and fastening them, she decided that what she _really_ needed was to do something on her _own_ today.

_'Goddamn Harris. And goddamned cheerleader,'_ ran through her mind. _'Both of them fucking up my head without even trying.'_

Cordelia she could figure for trying: the socialite was obviously a manipulator from way back, except that Faith didn't get the feeling she _was_ trying. Faith got a sense of honesty from her that she couldn't shake - she didn't doubt that Cordelia could wrap people around her finger and turn their heads inside out with little effort, but she gave off a vibe of being too starkly proud to do that with people who's opinions she actually cared about. Harris... Faith doubted that Xander Harris could manipulate if he wanted to. He struck her as being more the type to keep things hidden behind the comic mask, and then blow up when they got serious, like he had last night. She seriously doubted that the stark, brutal honesty of what showed through when the clown mask fell even registered with him.

Faith really didn't understand people like them, either the proud cheerleader or the goofy clown with the unexpected depths under the jokes. Both of them were so far out of her experience they might as well have been aliens.

Willow, she got. She understood both the nicey-nice, sweet exterior, and the hidden jealousy, uncertainty, and subtle mean streak in the little red-head. Faith didn't have any problems reading the strong sense of hero worship Willow had had for Buffy Summers, and the undercurrent of resentment she had for someone trying to take Buffy's place. She even understood it, like she understood the hacker's territorial streak towards Xander. Oz, she also didn't have much problem figuring: Faith'd known guys like Oz most of her life. He had a carefully hidden dark streak under the laconic exterior, but he also came off as a basically nice guy who was mostly interested in his girl friend and his music more than anything else. She had little doubt that he was in this because Willow was, and he planned to be in the way of anything that wanted to harm the little computer geekette. The Watcher she got, more or less, even if he did display traits that reminded her uncomfortably of Professor Dormer at times.

What she _didn't_ get was Harris' determined protective streak towards people he didn't even know, and who would laugh at him for wanting to fight things with teeth for them, or Cordelia's determination to put her neck on the line for something she thought was worth doing, even while hiding it behind snark and insults.

The thing she _did_ get was that for some unfathomable reason, Harris and Cordelia seemed to like her and seemed determined to add _Faith_ into the select group of people they really cared about. Cautiously determined, in Cordelia's case, but determined. She got it, and it both pissed her off, frightened her, and warmed her for reasons she couldn't begin to figure out.

Faith reflected that if she had an ounce of sense, she'd run - not walk - as far as she could get from the pair of cheerful maniacs until she found some place where people comfortably didn't give a shit about anyone else except for what they could get out of you.

Instead, she was dressed, showered, and up way too early in the day and on her way to Kent college across town to poke around and see what she could turn up about a group of dead idiots. Mostly so that another couple of idiots might not have to get hurt watching her back.

Faith figured that she'd probably hit her head too hard in Kakistos lair in Boston and done gone retarded.

Kent Preparatory turned out to be fairly simple to wander onto and start poking around in. Faith was used to schools in Boston, where the norm was metal detectors, roving security, and cameras everywhere, as well as instant suspicion of anyone who didn't look like they belonged. For a place with a college kid and high schooler death rate higher than Washington DC in a bad year, Sunnydale seemed to be remarkably light on paranoia.

Simple to wander into anyway, but light on the poking around results. She discovered the majority of the dorms and junior fraternity/sorority houses were deserted in summer, and the campus was practically empty except for a few summer class students and professors. Sighing in frustration, and not quite ready to concede defeat and begin the long walk back to the library, she almost tripped over a late middle aged and rather portly man in a dark suit near the school rectory. She stumbled and felt a strong hand grip her upper arm to steady her, and a mild and slightly amused voice said, "Pardon me, young lady."

Looking up and seeing the white, backwards color, Faith flushed and stammered "Umm, excuse me, Father. Err... oops?"

The man chuckled, "Brother, not Father, but thanks for the promotion." He smiled reassuringly, and the apology should be mine, "I probably wasn't properly watching where I was going."

Faith grinned at him, "Naw. Me, most likely. Sorry."

"Yes, you did seem a bit preoccupied," he suggested. "Brother David," he put his hand out to her.

"Umm, Faith," she took his hand a bit awkwardly. He nodded and looked her over curiously. Faith's eyes widened slightly when she realized that her light jacket was gaping open wide enough for him to easily spot the pair of stakes tucked into her belt.

"Umm... " Faith pulled her jacket closed and muttered, "No problem."

"Ah. If you're looking for Holy Water, the chapel is back the way you were coming from on the opposite side of the school."

"Holy Water?" Faith gaped at him, then noticed something suspiciously like a twinkle in his eyes. She closed her mouth, frowning slightly. "No, sorry," she covered, a bit lamely.

"Well, let's see," Brother David said, "A pair of stakes, preoccupation, and you're wearing a cross and have another one peeking out of the top of your jeans pocket." he lifted a finger to forestall her objection, "And, you're not a summer student here that I recognize." He gave her an infectious grin, "I'm guessing you're either an enthusiastic camper, or one of the young people who wander about Sunnydale late at night stalking some of the er... night denizens."

"Umm... I'm not a camper?" Faith gave in and waved her hands, rolling her eyes. "Sure you wouldn't buy 'live role playing geek'?"

Brother David shook his head, "Not unless it was fall semester and you looked a great deal more goth than you do now. And, you're rather young to be a student here, unless I miss my guess."

"I guess I kinda suck at staying undercover, huh?" Faith shook her head, disgustedly.

"Not at all," Brother David patted her shoulder reassuringly. "I'm an unusually perceptive fellow for a Lay Brother. Your guise would have held up wonderfully to anyone with lesser powers of deduction."

Faith stared at him and then burst out laughing. Brother David beamed at her, and she said, "You got me Padre. I'm a vampire slayer, and I'm here doing some research."

A bit to Faith's surprise, Brother David nodded seriously rather than laughing with her, although his eyes were still twinkling a bit. "Fascinating. I can't say that I've ever met a Slayer before. This wouldn't happen to be 'research' regarding the rather unfortunate demise of certain of our students within Sunnydale proper, by any chance?"

Faith's eyes widened again, "You know about Slayers?" She'd definitely heard the capital letter at the front of the word when he'd said it."

"The One Girl in all the world, Chosen, among all others," he raised his finger and closed his eyes as he recited, "Into every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer." He opened his eyes and said, "Did I get that right?"

"Wow," Faith blinked at him. "Pretty much, I think."

"Wonderful," he said. "It's been almost two decades since I first read of the Slayer legend. I wasn't sure I remembered it properly." He shook his head, with a bemused expression, "I hadn't ever hoped that I might actually meet one."

"Well, your lucky day, I guess," Faith stuck her hands in her back pockets. "You don't seem surprised?"

"Not all, but a number of us in the Priesthood and among the various Orders are aware that there's a bit more to the Darkness than an absence of light, Faith," Brother David looked thoughtful. "Especially in places like Sunnydale." He gave her a piercing look, "Not everyone is subject to the denial syndrome that seems to inflict so many of the towns people here."

"Couldn't prove it by what I've seen so far," Faith shrugged. "So, what do you know about the killings in town?"

"Not much, other than that they're the subject of some discussion among the faculty. Not, however, gossip, you understand," Brother David held up a finger warningly. "Faculty at Kent Preparatory is not inclined to gossip. It wouldn't be proper." Faith snickered, and he continued, "Would you care to have a seat over there and discuss them with me? Perhaps I can be of assistance, albeit I'm not sure how."

"Well," Faith shook her head, "Considering I've already blown the whole secret identity and undercover thing, what the hell." Her eyes widened, "Err... heck?"

"I'll grant you dispensation. Say two Hail Mary's tonight, and go forth and curse no more," he said, taking a seat on one of the stone benches along the walk.

Faith laughed and took a seat at an angle facing him. "Guess I'm not very religious."

"Not many are, these days." Brother David nodded. "Were you raised Catholic?"

"Yeah, borned and raised," Faith said. "Didn't stick."

"Well, perhaps you'll find your way back to it, some day," Brother David suggested. "Now. Tell me what you can about the mystery you're attempting to unravel."

Faith explained the discovery of the first body, and their efforts at research - leaving out the names of the others in the Scooby Gang - and an animated description of their encounter with the demon and their subsequent thrashing by it. She also described their theories, and what she was trying to turn up here. "And then G-m-my Watcher said that summoned critters are usually kinda torqued off by being summoned, which led to R-Wi-one of the others thinking that maybe whoever conjured it slipped up and it broke loose. So I - I mean we 'cause it wasn't only my idea - kinda figured that it might have killed the mage and it didn't get out to the police or papers, y'know?"

"So you came here to see if you could pick up any rumours of something similar happening prior to the other killings," Brother David said.

"Well, yeah. But I kinda forgot that there probably wouldn't be many students hanging around gossiping, 'cause I was too dumb to figure it's like, summer," Faith wound down.

"Nonsense," Brother David shook his head. "My impression is that you are far from 'dumb', Faith." He paused, "Perhaps a bit prone to not think things through completely, but you did have a good idea."

"Yeah. 'Not thinking it through''s the story of my life, Padre," Faith shrugged. "So, have any idea of anything like what I'm saying happening?"

"Hrrmm." Brother David leaned back and gave her a thoughtful look. "Naturally, while Kent is a prep school, not a seminary, it _is_ still an institution associated with the Church. And as such, naturally, _none_ of our students or faculty would ever be associated with anything that smacks of demonology or black ritual."

"Naturally," Faith studied him, spotting the suspicious twinkle in his eyes still. "Right. And hard drinking Irish priests only exist in movies, not ever in parish churches."

"Exactly." Brother David beamed at her and patted her on the knee, smiling brightly. "Now, it is possible - and be assured that I will deny this _strenuously _if it should ever be repeated - _possible_, mind you, that there was a Junior Professor who had... a mishap here a week or so ago that might have had it heavily suggested to the illustrious members of the Sunnydale PD that it would be best if it were investigated as a simple accidental death."

"Right." Faith thought about it for a moment. "And, just hypothetically speaking, there might have been weird designs near the body that didn't get mentioned in police reports. Maybe, like, because the school admins suggested it couldn't possibly happen that way."

"Well, Kent _is_ a preparatory school for Sunnydale and the surrounding county's wealthier parochial students. So it might have happened that way, theoretically."

"And you said this Junior Prof's name was... ?"

"Me?" Brother David's eyes widened. "I never, _ever_ said that the unfortunate fellow's name was Assistant Professor Andrew Martins. That, my young lady, would be a breach of school confidentially that would have grave repercussions for any faculty member who violated it."

"Right. Damn," Faith's shoulders slumped. "Guess I'll have to drag back to Sunnydale and say I struck out." She grinned. "Thanks for, err... not being able to help."

"Not at all," Brother David said, gravely. "I'm delighted I was able to not be of assistance to you."

"Wicked," Faith bounced up. "Later, Padre. Gotta run."


	9. Chapter 8: Enemy Action?

**Chapter 8: Enemy Action?**

_**Tuesday August 4, 1998; Sunnydale High School library, afternoon.**_

Rupert Giles looked up at the sound of boots thumping down the library stairs. "Why, good afternoon, Faith."

"Afternoon, Jeeves," Faith grinned and bounced over to the main library table. "Whatcha doing?"

"Please don't call me... Oh, bloody hell. Never mind," Giles smiled tiredly at her and said, "I am currently going through the Sunnydale obituaries attempting to determine from death and news reports where we might expect new vampires to arise."

"Ah," Faith nodded seriously. "Makes sense. Beats just wandering cemeteries at random looking for newbies."

"Quite." Giles folded the papers and closed his notebook, looking up at her. "And yourself?"

"Huh? Oh - you mean, what've I been up to?" Faith grinned, "Not much." She gave her nails a casual study and added, "Think I may have gotten us a lead on our demon summoner."

"Oh, really?" Giles removed his glasses and his eyebrows went up at her. "Most excellent, if it should prove to be so. May I inquire how you came about this information?"

"Huh?" Faith gave him a blank look, and then snickered when he shot her a mild, reproving glare. "Guess I blew the possibility of pulling that one, huh?"

Giles chuckled, "Yes, when you made the mistake of letting it be known that you understand proper English."

"Damn," Faith shook her head. "Have to find new ways to annoy you."

"I am quite certain that you'll manage," Giles replied in a dry tone. "Now, you were saying?"

"Decided to wander over to Kent and poke around, and ended up talking to someone on the faculty, one of the Brothers there. He kinda bantered around with me and then he mentioned that there might have been a death that didn't get reported as a 'weird killing'. One of the Junior Profs."

Giles stared at her for a long moment, then smiled broadly. "That's most excellent, even if it should not pan out as a lead. Might I ask how you accomplished this?"

Faith smirked, and proceeded to launch into the story of bumping into Brother David and almost falling over him, and the gist of the rest of the conversation.

When she'd finished, Giles looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded, smiling. "Most enterprising. More than a good bit of luck involved, however, fortune never strikes those who do not place themselves in its path." Faith grinned. Giles frowned slightly, then said, "I am a bit concerned the good Brother discovered that you were a Slayer, however it sounds unlikely that he'll use the information to your detriment."

"Kinda doubt it," Faith said, frowning. "He seemed to be pretty cool for a church guy." She looked down at Giles, "So, I did good?"

"Definitely," Giles nodded. "We'll have to give this name and information to Willow so that she can add it to her searching."

Nod. "Does mean that the guy that probably summoned it's dead," Faith remarked.

"Yes, but it also gives us a group that we could use to determine the other members from, assuming the Durslar is going after the rest of the summoner's circle," Giles said. "Please don't discount the value of the contribution."

Faith hid a smile under her hair. "And maybe get there ahead of it before it kills another one. Set a trap." She had a thought and asked, "There wasn't another one last night, was there?"

"No, fortunately," Giles said, shaking his head.

"Cool."

"I spoke to the Council today," Giles began a bit diffidently. Faith gave him a sharp look and raised her eyebrows, scowling slightly. "Travers seemed a bit... put out... that you had left Boston following your Watcher's death, however he finally allowed that it is a good thing that you made your way to the Hellmouth here." Giles paused, and began to polish his glasses. "He confirmed me as your interim Watcher for the nonce, and suggested that I 'make use of you however is appropriate to the needs of guarding the Hellmouth', end quote."

The distaste in Giles voice at the quoted phrase from the head of the Watcher's Council got a snicker from Faith. Giles glanced up at her with a sour smile, "Quite. Bloody ponce."

Faith laughed, "Oh well. They can't all be young, cute, and wicked cool like you."

"Why thank you, Faith," Giles said. "It might be better for the Council as a whole if they were. However," Giles forestalled another remark from Faith by raising his hand slightly, "I was able to convince the fellow to make provisions for a living stipend for you, dating from the day following your Watcher's death."

"Cool," Faith nodded. "He give you a hard time?"

"Somewhat," Giles admitted. "Travers seems rather unconcerned with the Council's obligations to supporting the Slayer, and more so with the Slayer's obligations to the Council." Giles smiled tightly, "By making inquiries of some of my other contacts before calling him, I was able to determine that the Council's investigation supports your account of Professor Dormer's death."

Faith jumped down from the table, "You didn't believe me?"

Giles frowned, "Why yes, I rather did, Faith." He gave her a reproving glance, "I didn't mean to imply otherwise - had I not, I would have said so directly. I needed the confirmation to disarm any false accusations Travers might have made regarding your apparent desertion of your post in Boston. My feeling is that a Council inquiry would do neither of us any justice."

"Oh. Right." Faith scuffed her boot on the floor, and looked down at it. "Sorry," she made an apologetic gesture. "I seem to be losing my temper a lot lately."

"No apologies necessary, Faith." Giles waved it off. "You're in a strange place with people you have no reason to trust, and are recently coming out of a period of a great deal of stress. I would worry if you were _not_ showing some reactions and signs of doubt."

Faith stared at him for a long moment, then her lips curled up at the corners, "Right. So, is that like a license to be a bitch?"

"Hardly," Giles laughed. "Or at least, don't abuse it, please."

"Try not," Faith said. "So, new Watcher on the way?"

"No." Giles frowned, "Or rather, Travers proved extremely uncommunicative regarding that query.' Giles sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, "We also had a rather sharp discussion regarding why they had neglected to inform me that another Potential had been called following Kendra's death. That may have left him disinclined to answer my further queries."

"Left you feeling like a 'shroom?" Faith raised her eyebrows.

"Beg pardon?"

"Left in the dark and covered in bullshit?"

Giles let out a startled bark of laughter. "Quite. Almost exactly like a 'shroom'."

"Hmm." Faith pulled out a chair and turned it around so that she could sit in it with her arms folded across the back. She rested her chin on her forearms and regarded Giles. "No invitation to the Retreat. No memo that I got called. I hear Kendra was a surprise to you also." She cocked her head and looked at him thoughtfully, "I'd start wondering if I was out of the loop for a reason, and start watching my back to see it didn't sprout knives. But I'm paranoid."

"It isn't paranoia if they really are out to get you?" Giles murmured and stared at her for a moment, "Out of the mouths of babes."

"Hey, what was it that guy said?" Faith grinned, "Once, accident, twice coinkydink, three times - enemy action?"

"Hah. I'm not quite certain that's how the quote goes, but I _do_ get your point." Giles replaced his glasses and said, "Be that as it may, that is a mystery for another time. As long as you're here, do you have any objections to beginning our testing of your abilities, considering I am to act as your Watcher?"

Faith jumped up, "Hey, bring it on."

**...**

_**Same day; Sunnydale High School library, early evening.**_

"Wow," Willow said, staring at her screen. "That's interesting." She swallowed, "Gross, but interesting."

"Whatcha got, Will?" Xander glanced over at his friend.

"That Andrew guy _was_ killed with a wierd circle design near his body. No Blood Eagle, but lots of dismembermenty badness in the photos," Willow said.

"Hrrm. May I have a look?" Giles asked, curiously. Willow nodded and tilted the monitor so that Giles could see more clearly. "Fascinating," Giles remarked. He peered at the image. "Could you make a-a firm copy of this so that I might examine this area more closely?"

Willow smirked slightly, "I can do better," she said. She selected the indicated area of the photo and enlarged it several times. "Behold - the joys of the 21st century, Giles."

"Quite so, Willow. This prehistoric relic is grateful to you." Giles leaned in to examine the image. Willow beamed at him.

"Where did you get that, Will?" Xander asked.

"Oh. Detective Stein's personal reports, marked 'Case Closed'," Willow said, excitedly.

"Ah, good old Defective Stein, pride of Sunny-D Law Enforcement." Xander nodded, "Ever dedicated to covering up in the interests of serving the public."

Cordelia smirked. She looked at Faith, "And you got this poking around at Kent?" At Faith's nod, Cordelia studied her for a few minutes, and then nodded approvingly.

"Interesting," Giles remarked. "I am familiar with this type of summoning and protection circle. It would seem that our esteemed Assistant Professor Martins inadvertently drew in the inscriptions in this section wrong side upwards."

"Is that Giles-speak for 'he done screwed it up and let the critter out'?" Xander asked. "And it ate him?"

"Ah, quite."

"'k. So if we can figure out who the Junior Prof and the dead kids were hanging out with, we can maybe figure out who else is on the list and get ahead of Monster-boy." Faith said, nodding. "And set a trap."

"Oh! yeah," Willow flashed Faith a small grin, then her brow furrowed and she slumped a bit. "That's not going to be easy. I didn't see a list of associates in Stein's file, and demon-summoning friends aren't likely to be listed on the internet."

"Hrmm." Cordelia tapped a nail on her chin, thoughtfully. "Oh, give me the list. I've dated some boys from Kent Prep - one of them probably knows someone who knows who's doing who and who's friends with what."

"And people say that loose women aren't handy to know," Xander smirked.

"Hey," Faith warned. "You _want_ to discourage the cheerleader when she's being helpful?"

"Good point," Xander grimaced. He sent Cordelia an apologetic look.

"Oh, stop with the puppy dog eyes already, Dweeb." Cordelia sniffed. "If you didn't get in at least _one_ hooker wisecrack a week, I'd think you were dying on me."

"We _might_ be able to create a banishment ritual keyed to the demon," Giles said in a musing tone.

"Really?" Willow looked at him, surprised. "I thought you'd have to have the demon present and contained for that?"

"Normally, yes." Giles gave her a sharp look, but he nodded. "However, thanks to an inspiration of Faith 's, we have a sample of the creature's blood and bodily fluids from her battle axe." He paused, thinking. "That might be sufficient."

"Wow. That's almost smart in an homicidal 'ick' sort of way," Cordelia said.

Faith grinned at her, "It's a slayer thang, girlfriend. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh please. Like hacking things is a Sacred Sisterhood mystery," Cordelia tilted her head slightly. "Does this mean I don't need to call around to find the dead people's friends?"

"Ah, hmm." Giles looked thoughtful. "You may as well continue with that. It might prove needed if the banishment doesn't work." He paused, then added, "We may also need to follow up, regardless, to make certain none of the other members of the circle attempt a similarly foolish act later."

**...**

_**Tuesday August 4, 1998; Sunnydale High School library, night.**_

"I do believe we're ready to begin to attempt this," Giles said, looking up from the grimoire he'd spent the last hour studying.

"Oh, finally!' Cordelia said. "I was starting to think that we were opting for death by terminal boredom instead of by demon mauling."

"You can always feel free to hunt up the Drowslag and lure it here, if you really need the excitement," Xander remarked.

"Oh, funny, Harris." Cordelia tilted her head slightly and looked at him, "Besides, it would work better if we dressed you up as a girl again and had you do it."

"Ooh! Ooh!" Xander clutched his chest."I'm struck!" He raised and eyebrow, "So you _are_ admitting I made a hotter girl, huh?"

"As if!" Cordelia smirked. "I was thinking it was a natural extension of that womanish shriek you've perfected in the face of danger."

"Ha! I laugh in the face of danger!"

"And then you scream and hide until it's gone," Faith smirked. "We've heard this routine, Xan - get a new one." He gave Faith a wounded look and mouthed, 'Critic'.

"If you children are _quite_ finished?" Giles raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, dad." Faith and Xander said in unison, then shot each other suspicious glares.

"Umm, is there going to be enough room in here in the library to do this?" Willow asked, a bit dubiously.

Giles frowned. "It might be better to set this up elsewhere, perhaps, so we don't have to re-arrange everything." He thought for a moment, and added, "There is also a possibility that the creature will sense the banishment as it begins and rush to disrupt it."

"But, I was just kidding about preferring the demon mauling," Cordelia frowned. "Boredom is a _good_ thing!"

"Weapons," Oz suggested.

"Good plan," Xander said. "I'll go with you to get them."

"We could use the outer Girl's Basketball Court for an outside location," Cordelia offered. "If you could draw the thingy on concrete?"

Giles considered for a moment, "Hrrm. Yes, I believe so. The actual ritual circle can be drawn in colored chalk - it doesn't require any esoteric materials."

"I made a good suggestion?" Cordelia looked surprised. "Go me!"

Once Xander and Oz had returned with armaments to supplement those from the library weapons cage, the group adjourned to the farther girl's basketball area and Giles and Willow began inscribing the mystical and protective circle for the casters.

Oz opened the duffel bag they'd used for transporting items and began passing out armaments. After several moments, Giles took notice and asked, "Are those new, if I might ask?"

"Yeah," Willow nodded. "Some extra oomph for the non-slayer-powered slaying team members."

"Interesting," Gile peered more closely. "Those aren't firearms, are they?"

Xander shook his head. "Arrow firing air rifles. And compound crossbows." He muttered under his breath, "We couldn't get firearms," and Faith grinned at him.

"Joint Scooby project funded by Cordy," Oz supplied.

"Fascinating," Giles looked at Cordelia, who appeared to be carefully filing her nails and oblivious to the conversation. "I really must pay closer attention to what you children are up to when unsupervised."

"They're not children, G," Faith said. "Xan, Will, Oz, and Cordy ain't been kids for a long time." Willow shot Faith a startled look, then a wide grin split her lips.

"Quite," Giles looked startled, then smiled tightly. "I say, is that the sword from Acathla?"

"Yeah, yeah." Faith motioned to the diagram impatiently. "Take inventory later?"

When Giles went back to his and Willow's inscribing with a slight chastened look, Faith turned to the others. "Ok... been thinking. You know how fast this thing is. Get shots off fast and go to blades, then go for knees, ankles, and elbows. We put it down and then I can cut it's head off, unless G and Red get it banished first. C, you're the best shot after me, so you stay back and arrow it where ever it's open." She frowned, "Sound good?"

Cordelia gave her a disinterested shrug, "You're the Slayer, General."

"Cordy." Faith's voice dropped a register and ten degrees and Cordelia and Xander looked at her sharply. "Nuh uh. You guys been telling me how this is a group deal since I got here. I ain't no damned leader." She scuffed a foot against the court surface. "I can't promise I'm a team player always, but this is like _partners_ if we're gonna do it. I'm fucking up, or you got better ideas, you guys tell me." A grin quirked at the corner of her mouth, "Might even listen before I tell you to fuck off and die."

Oz, Cordelia, and Xander all gave her startled, and then thoughtful looks. At least Faith thought Oz's was thoughtful - it was hard to tell with him. Cordelia gave her a long, intense scrutiny, and then nodded abruptly and followed it with one of the thousand watt grins.

"Partners," Cordelia said, and Xander nodded and quirked a half-grin. "And I still think it sounds ok."


	10. Chapter 9: No Plan Ever Survives

**Chapter 9: No Plan Ever Survives -**

_**Tuesday August 4, 1998; Sunnydale High School outdoor Girl's Basketball Court, near midnight.**_

First contact with the enemy came just as the last encounter had - in a rush. Despite their preparations, it was a near unexpected rush: only the distance the Durslar had to cover from whatever sewer exit it emerged from and the open space around the basketball court gave them time to ready themselves.

The Durslar beast soaked up the arrows and Faith's crossbow bolts without slowing overmuch. A second and third volley did slow it down a bit, or at least cause it to voice its displeasure with an ear shattering roar, and then it burst through the chain link fencing in a shrieking yellow rush of claws and talons.

Faith managed to reload for one last bolt before dropping the crossbow and lunging in with axe and knife, as Cordelia backpedaled away to one side. Xander and Oz split to each side of the beast while Faith went in low, smashing her axe into a supporting leg's kneecap.

A clawed hand smashed - knuckle side first, fortunately - in a backhand against Faith's head and shoulder and knocked her rolling and dazed across the concrete. Xander chopped into the other knee with the edge of the Acathla sword and yellowish ichor spurt out in an arc across him. Unfortunately, although the knee buckled, it didn't go down.

Oz yelled, and slashed at it with his axe, distracting it from gutting Xander like a fish as Xander dropped hastily and rolled - losing his sword in the process. Xander managed to recover the sword and clamber to his feet as Faith came up, shaking her head. Xander's eyes widened as it ignored him and lifted an arm to slash at a woozy looking Faith, and he stepped in between them, blocking the arm with a two hand sword hack that stopped the blow but sent him smashing to the ground. Faith screamed and buried her long bladed dagger into the beast's groin with an upward slash and kicked it away from the supine boy.

After a near slash from a clawed hand left Oz's shirt shredded and showing bleeding stripes across his chest, it ignored him and turned back to the chanting Giles and Willow within the spell circle...

... only to stop, both hands clawing at its face when a bolt from Cordelia sank into its eye socket. Xander's next sword stroke came in from behind, biting into its leg just above the ankle just as it staggered back, and Faith's shoulder hit it in the mid-section, driving it backwards and away from the chanting spell casters. A taloned hand raked across Xander's back as it staggered back and away under Faith's onslaught.

It fell, and as it attempted to clamber to its feet past a snarling, cursing Faith hacking two-handed at its shoulders and neck, Giles and Willow's voice came together in a shout of some unintelligible sound.

There was a rush of wind and a fetid stench. The candles around the spell circle flared high and then guttered out - and the Durslar beast vanished in a flare of otherworldly light.

"Oz!" Willow ran out of the circle and fell to her knees next to the bleeding musician. She began pulling up his shirt to see how bad the cuts were.

Faith took a deep breath, and got back to her feet while Cordelia shoved a protesting Xander back to the ground on his stomach so she could look at the claw marks he hadn't been aware he'd gained.

Giles came up beside Faith, letting out a ragged breath and taking off his glasses to let them dangle absently from one hand.

"Well, that certainly went well," he remarked.

"You think?" Faith shook her head and grinned up at him.

"Well, yes." Giles nodded. He looked down at her and gave her a tired smile, "On the Xander scale of apocalypse prevention, I'd say that rates at _least_ an 'oh my' and quite possibly a 'good show'."

**...**


	11. Boys and girls of Summer: Epilogue

**Boys (and girls) of Summer: Epilogue**

_**Wednesday August 5, 1998; Sunnydale General Hospital, Early AM.**_

"You guys should look into getting group discounts here," Faith remarked. She slumped tiredly into a chair in the emergency room waiting area.

"We've tried, but you wouldn't _believe_ how many concussion coupons it takes for a free stitching," Cordelia said. She glanced sideways at the tired librarian sitting across from her. "Giles almost qualifies, though."

"Oh, thank you, Cordelia," Giles said. "Please do mock my unfortunate tendency to be rendered unconscious on a frequent basis."

Faith and Cordelia looked at each other, then back at Giles. "Mock, mock, mock.. " They said, in unison, and snickered.

"Hah." Giles favored them with a tolerant glare.

Willow came back out and gave everyone a tired smile, and slumped in a seat next to Giles. "Hey."

"Oz all right?" Faith asked.

"Oh - no deep cuts. Just disinfecting and a few dozen stitches." Willow shook her head, "I think Xander just set the hospital record for the most butterfly sutures in one sitting, though."

Faith winced. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Willow looked at her, and shook her head. "It's _really_ not your fault. It was a pretty good plan."

Faith shook her head, scowling.

"No. Really," Willow gave Faith a stubborn look. "That's how you know you're officially a female Scooby - when Xander launches himself between you and something with way too many teeth." The little hacker grinned, "He's ok, honest - he's already trying to joke the nurses into letting him out."

"She's right," Cordelia said, "It's a Xander thing." Getting a surprised look from Willow, Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, Willow. I'm too tired to snipe at you for once. Enjoy it while it lasts."

Faith's lips twitched several times, and finally a smile broke out. "He really is a doof, isn't he?"

"Yeah, but he's a pretty brave Xander-shaped doof," Willow beamed. She sobered slightly, and gave Faith a serious examination. Giles glanced at the three girls, excused himself and stood to head over to the coffee vending machine.

"What?" Faith raised her eyebrows.

"Did you mean what you said out there?"

"What?' Faith asked, honestly puzzled.

"The... partners thing," Willow said.

"Well, yeah," Faith nodded. "Tomorrow or next week, I might change my mind, but for now? I'm good to give it a try." She smirked, recapturing her old insouciance, "As long as you guys don't screw me over, I'm good to go back, y'know?"

Willow studied her carefully, then leaned forward and stuck her hand out. Faith looked at it, surprised, then shook it gravely.

"No need to get all formal, Red."

Willow shook her head. "No, I wasn't real fair to you. And you've been trying real hard, too." She looked at Cordelia, who arched an eyebrow back at her. "To you either, Cordy. You've really been helping, and I've been too busy looking for the catch to appreciate it."

"Oh, pshaw." Cordelia waved it off, negligently, but Faith at least could see the secretly pleased look in the toffee colored eyes. "I'm just biding my time until the pods in our basement get ripe."

Willow gaped at her and then started giggling.

"What?! I can't watch some dumb old sci-fi movie and work it into a joke?"

"_Cordelia_ made a joke?" Xander's voice had a mock disbelieving tinge to it. "A _geek_ joke?"

"Funny one, too," Faith said, nodding. "Wasn't even at your expense, neither." He gave her a puzzled look, and then grinned at Cordelia.

"It was probably just the pods talking," Willow told him earnestly.

Xander looked down at the painkiller prescription in his hand. "I'm not sure I can cope with this on drugs." He sobered and looked at Willow, "Oz should be out in a few and we can head out."

"Yay." Cordelia grabbed him by the shirtsleeve. "Sit down, Doof."

"Yes, dear," Xander smirked at her and sat down gingerly, putting his arm across her shoulders. He winced slightly, but decided it was worth the pain.

"Ok, so - monster dealt with, post trauma care done," Faith leaned back tiredly. "What do we do tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is sleeping in followed by the traditional Post-Slay party," Xander said, "Since we're all too much about to fall asleep now and it's almost three AM."

"I vote for a beach bonfire," Oz put in, wandering up with a sleepily blinking Giles beside him.

"Sounds good," Faith nodded. "Weenie roast?"

"No, I say burgers," Cordelia suggested. "We keep Xander out of fires and unroasted." She stuck her tongue out at Xander as Faith started snickering.

"Let's do go home, children," Giles said. "I am far too tired to consider appropriate Xander recipes at this time of morning."

"Eh too, Giles?"

**...**

**The END**

_**To be Continued in "Night Watchmen" Episode 1b: "The Chicago Way"**_


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